


Dying in America (to Come Into Our Own)

by knittycat99, nubianamy



Series: The Donutverse [28]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Dancing and Singing, Discipline, Dom/sub, Double Anal Penetration, Family Drama, Family Reunions, First Time, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Griffin and Sabine (Series), His Dark Materials Inspired, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Performing Arts, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, RENT (Musical) - Freeform, Summer School, Theatre, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:17:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 163,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3196742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knittycat99/pseuds/knittycat99, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/pseuds/nubianamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel both decide to audition for a summer production of RENT, they realize exactly how connected their lives already are. </p><p>Donutverse (polyamory, Dom/sub, discipline) with Kurt/Puck/Finn/Blaine, Will/OMCs, Kurt/Puck/Adam Lambert, Kurt & Dave friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows directly after the last chapter of [Time Passed Makes it Plain](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2904890) (originally Fingers of Your Fire), on the last day of sophomore year, June 2010. 
> 
> If you've been following the Donutverse, this is where all the threads come together. If you're brand-new, here's the ridiculous summary of the last million and a half words: Kurt, Puck and Finn are in a committed BDSM relationship, with Finn as the Dom, Kurt as the switch and Puck as the sub/slave. Puck and Kurt are also in a relationship with Adam Lambert, who's currently on tour. Puck's daughter Beth is living with them at the Hudson-Hummel house part time and with Shelby Corcoran part time. The boys are good friends with Will Schuester's fiancé Toby, who is the choreographer for Vocal Adrenaline. Blaine and Dave are old friends, but Dave's closeted and in love with Blaine, and Blaine told him he couldn't be friends anymore after Dave called him names. Six months ago, Finn met Blaine in a Columbus coffee house and developed an intense Dom/sub relationship with him. He's been disciplining Blaine, but Puck and Kurt haven't met him yet, and know him only as "Patrick." 
> 
> There's a lot of sex in this story. It all furthers the plot, but there is a LOT of sex, with a lot of different people. Most of it is sweet rather than heavy on the BDSM, but there is certainly some of that too. 
> 
> I'm sorry if you're disappointed to see Klaine in the Donutverse. It's canon, so I'm making it work, even if it wasn't my ideal... but I think the way Blaine fits into their relationship is powerful and crucial. The foursome develops slowly and depends much more heavily on the Puck/Blaine and Finn/Blaine relationships.
> 
> Embedded in this story is the short story "Reunion" about Kurt, Puck and Finn at Finn's family reunion. It's reintroduced here with significant revisions. 
> 
> We started writing this story almost four years ago, and we are so pleased to bring it to you at last. Enjoy.  
> -amy and knittycat

_Here on in, I shoot without a script_  
 _See if anything comes of it, instead of my old shit_  
-Mark, "Prologue" from  _RENT_

* * *

It took Kurt six times longer than he'd anticipated to clean out his locker on the last day of school. It wasn't because his locker was particularly messy or even all that full of stuff. People just kept stopping to talk to him, wishing him a good summer and asking how Puck was doing. Dating Noah Puckerman and joining the Cheerios had certainly changed Kurt's social standing, even if being in Glee hadn't.

Only some of the people talking to him were there with him in person. Kurt got three texts in ten minutes. The first one came on their way out of Glee, and it was from Finn.

_Meet you up in the attic?_

Kurt didn't meet Finn's eyes as they passed one another in the hallway. Finn was heading the other way with Rachel, his own phone in his hands. He made sure to keep it cool at school. Being Finn's probable future stepbrother might be a little weird, but  _dating_  him was sure to get them into trouble. Of course, what they did behind closed doors was nobody's business but their own.

_We could just go home, you know,_  said Kurt _. Nobody else is there._

_I was actually thinking we should pack up our stuff. Who knows what might happen to the attic over the summer?_

Kurt was reasonably certain by now that nobody was going to disturb their secret attic room. For one thing, the mattress would have caused an outcry if anyone had already discovered it. For another, Kurt was pretty sure Brad was the only one besides Mr. Schue who had a key at all. The custodians never came in, as evidenced by the amount of dust that regularly built up on the table and windowsill.

_I'll take my mom's quilt home,_  Kurt replied.  _But the rest can stay. We'll be back in the fall._

There was also no question anymore, in either of their minds, whether or not they would still be together in the fall. Their parents were together, for one thing, and they were building a house. Each of them had a room: one for Kurt, with an enormous closet; one for Finn, adjoining Kurt's through the bath; one for Puck, and a connected room for Beth; and one for Puck's sister Sarah. On the main floor, there was a room for his dad and Carole, and an office, not to mention plenty of space in the basement for crafts, Finn's drums — and other things.

The last bedroom was labeled "guest," but Sarah had another name for it.  _That's the one for the person who comes next,_  she'd said. Kurt didn't know why she was so sure, but in the meantime, there was no reason why it couldn't be for Puck's brother Timothy when he visited, or Adam, or even Tess if she wanted to come to stay with them when she was in town.

The second text came while he was packing up. This one made him smile.

_You're officially a junior,_  Adam said.  _Does that mean I get to feel less like I'm robbing the cradle?_

_I think that would only apply if I wasn't already doing so many nefarious things with so many other people,_  Kurt sent.

_Ooh, nefarious. That's an SAT word if I ever heard one. Seriously, it was so good to see you on Wednesday night._

His dad hadn't let Kurt stay out late enough to catch a performance of Adam's Glam Nation tour, not in the middle of finals week, but he'd grudgingly agreed to drive with him to Toledo after school for dinner with Adam at his hotel. They hadn't actually spent any time eating dinner, but Kurt figured his dad didn't need details.

_You too,_  he replied.

_We're in Minnesota this weekend, playing two shows before I head to Tessera. I'll be awake tomorrow in the late morning — still running on California time._

_No problem. I'll talk to you then. Love you._

Kurt knew he didn't have to remind Adam to call Puck. They hadn't missed one nightly call since Beth had been born in April. Even on nights when Adam had a show, he called Puck from the wings. "To listen to her yell her fucking head off," Puck informed him, but Kurt guessed it wasn't just Puck's daughter Adam was calling for.

Kurt had managed to stuff most of his locker contents into three big canvas bags by the time the third text came. It wasn't Puck; Kurt didn't expect to hear from him until after Beth went down for her third nap, anyway. It was Dave.

_So when are you taking off again?_

Kurt wasn't fooled. Dave didn't forget things. His memory for dates and facts was impossibly accurate. But Kurt played along.  _Monday. Noah's coming home Sunday. You?_

_Sunday morning. If you don't have plans, the sky should be clear tonight, if you want to meet at the observatory._

Dave knew about almost all of Kurt's possible "plans." This was kind of amazing, when Kurt thought about it. Dave even knew about Adam, even if he didn't know his name or his exact identity. Kurt looked both ways down the hall, but Dave was nowhere in sight. He was probably in the physics lab.

_Finn's having a pretty hard time of it. He just broke up with somebody really important to him. I don't think I should leave him home alone._

There was an extended pause, during which Kurt hauled all three bags out to the Navigator and locked them inside. As long as Azimio had it out for Kurt, Kurt wasn't going to invite trouble by leaving his things in the hallway to be plundered.

_He'd be okay if you left him with video games and a big pizza,_  Dave replied.

Kurt frowned at his phone. What was going on?

Mercedes approached Kurt in the hallway with enthusiastic hugs, but when she saw his expression, she paused. "Everything okay?"

"Multitasking," he said, flashing her a smile and waving his phone. "Everybody's leaving for the summer, or making plans, or has a job. God, I couldn't  _wait_ for summer, and now I almost feel like I wish it were fall already."

"Bite your tongue!" She glared at him. "Believe me, I am not going to let you be bored. While your guys are busy with summer school and parenthood, you and I are going to do some epic hanging out and watching reruns of every performance reality show there is. Starting with the last season of Idol, which I totally missed."

"Yeah, um, I didn't watch it this year either." His phone buzzed again, and he had to focus to read all the text that came through.

_Finn says, "Not that this is a reason to hold back; in fact I deem it a sign to press on." Do I want to know what that means?_

Kurt blinked at the screen. "Um — Mercedes, I gotta go. I'll call you tonight."

He headed up the stairs to the third floor, but he had already guessed what he would find when he got there. Finn himself was the only one who would be quoting from  _Griffin and Sabine._

"…The books have postcards, and some are actual letters you can take out of the envelopes," Finn was saying to Dave when he opened the door to the attic room. "It makes it a little more mysterious, I guess. Hey, Kurt."

Kurt looked between Dave, who was sitting by the window, and Finn on the mattress, leaning propped up against the wall with his feet crossed. He gave Dave an irritable glare.  _"You_  could be a little  _less_ mysterious?"

"Could I?" Dave said mildly. He shrugged, apparently unconcerned. "Finn was explaining the quote. Which, already, meant he's exceeding my expectations for him to know  _any_  quotes. Or even what a quote is."

"Says the one who claimed not to be able to spell  _loser,"_  Finn said, waving his hand toward his own forehead. "And that was in Sharpie, so it really counted. But, yeah, anyway, in the book... the letters are exchanged between two characters, Griffin in London, and Sabine, this random girl, from a tiny made-up island in the Pacific. Uh —" He turned to Kurt, hesitating. "They are made-up, right?"

"Geography is not my strongest suit," said Kurt, "but I'm pretty certain the Katie Islands don't exist, yes."

Kurt decided having Finn and Dave in a room together and not yelling at one another was more good than weird. He came over to sit at the foot of the mattress, close enough to rest a hand on Finn's ankle. Dave looked away, but didn't comment.

"I'm surprised you haven't read them already," said Finn. "Seems like you spend a lot of time at the library."

For some reason, that made Dave blush. "I mostly read fantasy and science fiction."

"Well, this series is definitely one of those. I'm not sure which one. Maybe you can check it out over the summer."

"Doubt it. I'll be at camp." Now Dave was starting to get jumpy. Kurt turned his attention on Finn.

"You're saying you don't mind if I go to the observatory tonight instead of—?"

"Instead of babysitting me, yeah." Finn grinned slightly. "I can deal."

Kurt wasn't exactly sure if that was true. Watching the change in Finn, even three days after he'd told Carl he didn't want to be his boyfriend anymore, was hard. He was sure it didn't help that Puck had been gone for over a month. He guessed there might have been something else, something that had happened with Patrick, the boy Finn was disciplining in Columbus. Finn was still very secretive about him.

"At least Sarah and Puck will be coming home on Sunday," Kurt said, patting Finn's ankle.

"With the baby," added Dave.

_And Adam,_  Kurt thought, with a rush of pleasure.  _I get to see Noah and Adam, together, before he heads off to Columbus for his next show and we leave for Finn's family reunion._  He couldn't really say that in front of Dave, but he could tell from Finn's smile that  _he_  knew Kurt was thinking about that.

"Beth," Finn said aloud. "Her name's Beth."

"Yeah. Beth." Dave looked perplexed by this. "What's he going to do with her in the fall, anyway?"

"She's staying part time with a friend of Noah's," Kurt said. Which was true, even if Shelby wasn't going to be able to solve the problem of school for either of them. "I know the whole family situation is kind of strange."

"I think the strangest thing is that your dad's building a house to fit all of you." Dave shook his head. He definitely looked jealous.

"Well, I can meet you at the observatory tonight. Dusk again?"

"I'll be there at seven to open it to the public, but I can keep it open as long as we need." Dave stood and moved toward the door. "See you whenever you get there."

After Dave left and the door was securely closed behind him, Kurt let himself crawl onto the warmth of Finn's body, resting on top of him. They both let out a sigh.

"He's making jokes," Finn said. "I mean, jokes that aren't mean and cruel. I think that's a positive sign."

"Do you think he's faking?" Kurt asked.

"No, no." Finn stroked Kurt's hair, to which he might have objected if he still was in school, but at the moment it felt like the most wonderful thing in the world. "I think he's… being himself. Trying to, anyway. He's acting more like the guy I remember from fourth grade."

Kurt moved his cheek to rest on Finn's shoulder. "I know Noah didn't trust me when I said Dave was trying to change."

Finn chuckled. " _Noah_  would trust anything you told him. Puck, on the other hand…"

"They're not really two different people, Finn. No more than this Dave is a different person than Karofsky." He tipped his head up to look at Finn. "No more than you're a different person when you're with Carl."

"Yeah, well." Finn sounded resigned. "That was kind of my point in breaking up with him, wasn't it?"

"Was it?" Kurt asked softly.

"He can't  _really_  be my boyfriend. Not really ever. It was stupid to want that." Finn held him a little tighter, and Kurt snuggled into his embrace. "He can give me… what he gives me."

"Discipline, Finn."

"Yeah. That. We might as well be honest about what it is and what it isn't, you know?"

"You can't tell me you don't care about him," Kurt said. He felt the catch in Finn's breathing.

"It wasn't… like the way it is with us, Kurt. Every time I tried to make it like that, he'd remind me of my place. And he was right, you know? He needs somebody his own age."

_Somebody like Ms. Pillsbury,_  thought Kurt. She'd been there with them at Regionals, and in the hospital when Beth was born, but she'd conveniently found her own way home when Carl decided to take Finn back to the house for a session with the single-tail. The marks were still there on his back, thready and red and stark against his skin. They'd be mostly healed by the time they left for the reunion, but Kurt suspected Finn wouldn't be taking his shirt off in front of his thirty-odd cousins.

"He still wants you to be his boy," Kurt said.

Finn stiffened. "Yeah, well, he doesn't always get what he wants, either." His voice was gruff. "Can we go back to your dad's now? I'm so done with school. And I have to be back in less than a week. Goddamn summer school."

Kurt obliged by standing and helping Finn to his feet. "Mr. Schue's not teaching Spanish over the summer, is he?"

"No, and — don't tell him I said this, okay? — I'm kind of glad. I mean, I don't think it was his fault I got a D, exactly, but maybe I'll learn it better from somebody else."

"I'm proud of you for trying again," Kurt said, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

"It's not like my mom is giving me a choice," said Finn, but he looked pleased. "Come on. Grab your quilt and let's go home."

* * *

At the end of the night, Kurt and Dave were the last ones left. Kurt figured open viewing night at the Schoonover Observatory wasn't exactly a big draw on the last day of school. Just after dusk, there had been a mother and her daughter, maybe eight years old, and an older couple, but other than that, it had been pretty quiet. He waited while Dave turned off the lights.

"Mars and Regulus," said Kurt. "That was a really beautiful pairing. What constellation is Regulus in again?"

"It's the lead star in Leo." Dave pulled the door closed and checked to be sure it was locked.

"Leo. I don't think I even know what that constellation looks like. I know Orion, and the dippers."

" _Dippers."_  Dave sounded offended. "Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, please. Bears are even more stuck-up than lions. At least the bears from those books I gave you are."

"The ones about Lyra and the bears, yes. Now it's vacation, I can actually try reading them." They walked through the parking lot up the hill to Jefferson and waited at the curb for the light to change. "Thank you again for thinking of me. It was a perfect birthday present. That, and the visit to the observatory."

"It's no problem," Dave said. His feet scuffed on the gravel of the parking lot.

"I might read them aloud to Noah. He's not much for reading, himself, but he really likes hearing the stories."

"That series is one of my favorites. The youth librarian gave them to me and — my friend, when I was younger. She gave us all the best fantasy books. And books about kids like us."

"You mean gay kids," said Kurt. Dave shrugged.

"I mean kids who didn't feel like they fit in. Some of them were gay, some of them weren't. It took me a while to even open one of those books, but… well." He grinned. The expression still startled Kurt every time he saw it, it seemed so out of place on Dave's serious, bitter face.

"You were too curious?" Kurt guessed.

"Something like that. I can't really resist a book."

They crossed Jefferson when the light changed. Kurt gazed up at the clear sky. "The stars look so much dimmer now."

"The light pollution makes it hard to see anything worthwhile around here," Dave agreed. "Looking at them with the naked eye, it's hard to believe how much more you can see when you look a little closer."

Dave had left his car in his dad's garage's parking lot. He paused beside it, watching Kurt.

"What is it?" Kurt asked.

Dave grimaced. "I'm kind of… I don't know. This business of being friends with another guy. I've never been very good at it."

"You're doing fine."

"I have a hard time figuring out how much is too much. Like, where's the boundary there. I just… at some point it gets awkward, when I realize I've asked too much or trusted too much or something. And I end up backing off because I don't want them giving me that supercilious, patronizing look, like,  _all right, David, you're trying too hard."_

Kurt suppressed his smile, but Dave noticed it anyway and scowled. Kurt held up a hand, shaking his head. "Sorry... I'm only smiling because there's no way Noah or Finn would ever use a word like  _supercilious_  in conversation. It's refreshing. You're not trying too hard, Dave. I am actually appreciating an opportunity to be your friend."

Dave jammed his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, well, if you haven't noticed, I'm the one with everything to lose here."

"Not really. I don't have very many gay friends."

Dave didn't answer that. Kurt looked up at the sky, finding the spot in the west where Regulus and Mars were conjunct.

"The bears are interesting? In the books you gave me?"

"They're the best thing about them, and that's saying something. I have a thing about bears." He paused before adding, "My mom calls me Yogi."

Kurt nodded. "… Because?"

"Because," he muttered, squirming a little, "he's smarter than the average bear."

"See, I'm not going to laugh at you for being smart," said Kurt. "In my book, that's a worthwhile thing." He grinned. "I might laugh at you for the Yogi thing, though."

Dave rolled his eyes, but Kurt could see he was grinning too. "Sometimes I think being smart and being a jock at the same time is worse than being… like we are. I think I get more shit for that than I would if somebody knew what got me off. It's so fucking stupid."

"Well, I'm definitely scared about what the world would say if they found out what got  _me_ off," Kurt said. "Especially considering it's not exactly ordinary."

Dave was looking at him. "Well... I found out about that, right?"

"Yes, and I would note that you used it as leverage against us."

He looked at the ground. "I apologized for that."

Kurt flapped his hand at him. "No, I know, it's just... polyamory, BDSM? Who does that stuff in high school?"

"Looks like some people do. Obviously you're not alone."

The envy in Dave's voice was unmistakable. Kurt took a few cautious steps back.

"You're not alone, either, Dave. I'll let you know what I think about the books."

Dave nodded stiffly. "I'll see if I can get my hands on a copy of  _Griffin and Sabine."_

Kurt tried not to look surprised. Of course Dave would remember the title of the book. "Text me this summer, while you're gone, okay? Let me know how camp is going, how you're doing. I want to know."

Dave's face softened. He nodded again. "Yeah, okay. I will."

He climbed into his Civic. On the outside, it was in better condition than Kurt's father's truck was, but Kurt could hear the rattle in the engine. He'd have to remind Dave to get his timing chain looked at before it became an issue.

Once Dave had disappeared toward his own neighborhood, Kurt walked home. He stayed on the west side of Jefferson instead of walking in the park. As much as he loved it, it was already dark, and he didn't want to get in trouble for being there after sundown.

He was already feeling wistful about moving, about losing his connection to the park and the garage. All the little landmarks and neighbors and things didn't mean much individually, but together, they comprised his entire childhood. It was hard to imagine what it would be like to live outside of town. He wouldn't be able to walk anywhere out there.

On the other hand, there was a beautiful stand of oak trees right on their property, and acres of surrounding fields to provide them with privacy. And the house itself would be magnificent when it was finished. Kurt knew it was a reasonable sacrifice.

While he walked, he sent Dave a text.  _I don't think you should be ashamed of what gets you off, or of being smart. Or of anything at all._

_Are you kidding?_  Dave replied.  _Of course I'm ashamed, of all kinds of shit. Have you seen the kind of person I've been at school for the past year?_

_But that's not you,_  Kurt said.

_Are you sure about that?_

_Yes._

Kurt didn't receive another response until much later, long after he had greeted his father and Carole and had gone downstairs to find Finn. Finn had his suitcase open on the floor of the bedroom and was rummaging through Kurt's drawers.

"You're smart," Kurt said. Finn looked up at him, obviously confused.

"Uh… okay?"

"I mean, you're smarter than you let on. People think you're a dumb jock, but you're not."

Finn set his shirts down in the suitcase. "If you haven't noticed, I  _am_  repeating Spanish because of this D."

"You know what I mean. You're not perfect at everything, but you're  _smart._  And you don't tell anybody." Kurt glared at him, drawing in closer. Finn looked around nervously. "Is that on purpose? Do you do that to make it easier to hang out with other jocks?"

"I don't think I do anything on purpose, Kurt. I just do stuff because I do it." He looked down at Kurt, touching his face. "You think about stuff like this way more than I do."

"I don't think so, Finn. I'm just the one who talks about it." He reached up and took Finn's face in both hands. "I don't ever want you to pretend not to be smart."

"I don't know if I can actually promise that," Finn said. He sounded apologetic. "But knowing you care about that,  _and_  you think I'm smart, that's pretty fantastic."

Kurt kissed him passionately, letting Finn feel exactly what he thought about him. Eventually he paused for breath, resting his forehead against Finn's neck.

"And you're really hot," said Kurt.

Finn laughed. He kissed Kurt back, more slowly and deliberately. It drove Kurt crazy when he did that, like he had all the time in the world to get to what he wanted. Kurt whined in the back of his throat and nipped at Finn's bottom lip with his teeth.

"Easy, baby," Finn murmured. He leaned the heel of his hand against Kurt's erection, letting him rock against it. "You can have anything you want. Sarah's at Frances' house tonight."

"That is... incredibly tempting." He looked at the clock. "I think I want to shower and get ready for bed, and call Noah. And then go to bed with you and ask Noah to tell us about the last time Adam visited."

"That sounds awesome," Finn said. He kissed Kurt on the nose. "You'd better go first in the shower. I bet if I get in there with you, plans would change."

It was comforting that, even after eight months together, and considering all the other people who'd come in their lives, Kurt was still ridiculously attracted to Finn. He was aware of Finn watching him taking off his clothes, and took his time hanging them up, showing off a little as he stretched to hang up his vest and bent down to pick up his dirty socks. It was deeply satisfying to be ogled by a boy as hot as Finn, but even more satisfying to have a connection with the person he was inside. Nobody knew Finn like he did, except maybe Puck, and he definitely didn't begrudge the two of them that.

When he emerged from the shower to begin his evening moisturizing routine, there was a reply text waiting from Dave and a voice mail from Puck. He read the text first.

_I think you actually believe that,_  said Dave.

It was in reference to what he'd said earlier about knowing what kind of person Dave was. It gave Kurt a strange leaping sensation of hope to hear him say it.

_Even if you don't believe it yet,_  he replied,  _if you can trust that I think that, that's enough. For now._

_I don't know if I can always trust that. Some days I can barely stand to look at myself._

Kurt felt his heart pound harder. He reached for Finn's hand as he walked by and held onto it.

"What is it?" asked Finn.

"It's Dave. He's... I don't know, exactly. He's opening up. He's trusting me."

Finn gave him a curious smile. "That's a pretty great feeling, when somebody does that?"

"No, I mean, he's trusting  _me._  He really has no reason to want to do that."

"Kurt, of course he does. Look at what you're giving him." Finn sat on the edge of the bed. He looked troubled. "I kind of feel bad I didn't want to give him a chance, when I see the way you're helping him. What if you'd treated Puck that way? Or  _me?_  We were both just as awful to you. _"_

"Yeah, but I was in love with you," Kurt pointed out. "I would have forgiven you just about anything. And Noah..." He smiled to himself as he smoothed lotion on his neck. "What he wanted from me, the way he asked for it? It was like a gift, that kind of trust."

Finn nodded. "Is it really all that different?"

Kurt paused. "From what's going on with Dave?" It was an uncomfortable thought. "You don't think he wants  _that_  from me, do you?"

"I have no idea. I'm just saying, you're kind of giving him the same sort of opportunity to open up, to trust, by trusting him the way you are. I'm not saying he wants you to discipline him." Finn grinned. "Who knows, maybe he does?"

"Yeah, I don't think I can do that for Dave Karofsky." The more he thought about it, the more it made him laugh. "I can just hear my dad saying,  _oh, no, not another one."_

"Hey, I could see you handling a whole group of boys. Getting all bossy with them, telling them to line up and drop their shorts." Finn fended off Kurt's feeble swats, laughing. "You'd have them all calling you  _sir."_

"I can't believe you're even making jokes about that," Kurt scolded. "I know it's not a joke to  _you,_  considering the way you do that with Noah and Patrick."

He didn't say  _and Carl,_  but he watched Finn's smile dim, and kicked himself a little for bringing it up. But Finn just shook his head.

"No. It's not a joke."

Kurt leaned over to take his hand. "You miss that."

"Well, yeah, of course I do. Me on my power trip, being in charge of them." He was still saying it jokingly, but Kurt could see the seriousness behind his smile. "Who wouldn't miss that?"

He squeezed Finn's hand. "We can do that, if you want. Sir."

It was impossible to say it and not be affected by it, by all the history they had around that word and what it had come to mean for them. But Finn just smiled and shrugged.

"I only really want it with you when you need it. And I think you only need it sometimes. When you're being a total brat."

Kurt's lips twitched. "Like that time I tried to tell Rachel you wanted a girl who dressed like a - like Olivia Newton-John did at the end of  _Grease?"_

"Mmm," Finn said, nodding. "You remember how that turned out."

He shivered. "I'll never forget it."

Finn looked at their joined hands. "I, uh... I took Patrick to Carl's office. Two Saturdays ago, when you and Dave were at the observatory. I gave him the collar I had made for him."

"So that's what you were doing that night." Kurt watched the tension in Finn's fingers, the way he was holding on tight. "I'm guessing it was intense."

"You could say that," Finn said, exhaling. "Yeah. He... we haven't really talked about it much since then. Last I saw him, it was at Irene's, and it was kind of... well, something happened there, and Carl and I took off early."

Kurt realized what he was referring to. "That's the night you and Carl broke up."

"That's the night I broke up with  _him,_ " Finn corrected. "He barely went along with it."

He pulled Finn into a hug, holding on, just as tightly as he had to Finn's hand. "You're so brave, doing what you thought was necessary. I don't know if I could do that. I think I'd be more selfish than that."

"You'd do it, if you thought you had to," said Finn. He kissed Kurt. "You'd better answer Dave's text, or he's going to think you agree with him about not wanting to look at himself in the mirror."

"And then I'll call Noah." Kurt climbed up on top of his bed, letting the moisturizer soak in, and reread Dave's texts.

_I remember that feeling,_  he told Dave.  _I spent a lot of time feeling angry at myself when I thought the whole world was against me and it was always going to be that way. I was lucky I had a dad who told me I was a good person, and a best friend who made me promise never to feel bad for being honest._

_You really are lucky,_  Dave replied.  _I don't think most people get either of those things._

_Well, I'm not your dad, but I am your friend. I already told you I believe you're a good person._

_Kurt._  The one word stood by itself, with no context. Dave could be yelling it or crying it or rolling his eyes.

_Will you let me ask you never to feel bad for being honest?_  said Kurt.

The reply took a while. Kurt just waited for it, there on his bed, surrounded by the things and memories that made him who he was - until October of last year, anyway, when Finn and Noah had given him the potential to become who he was now.

Eventually Finn came out of the bathroom and climbed onto the bed beside him, giving him minty toothpaste kisses and making him feel lucky all over again.

_I don't know if I can promise anything about feelings,_  Dave said _. They don't seem very consistent._

_Fair enough,_  Kurt said.  _How about, if you do feel bad, you come talk to me about it?_

_And what are you going to do about it?_

Kurt considered the words for a long moment. He sat up against the wall, showing Finn the screen while he typed, so he could read too.

_I can listen to you,_  he typed.  _I can be your friend. I can let you know you're not alone._

"That's about all I can do for him," he said aloud. Finn kissed him on the cheek.

"That's a lot. And you get to decide what you want to do, all right? I wasn't trying to tell you you  _should_  do anything else. I was just saying I know you're capable of it."

He smiled. "You always did believe in me."

Dave sent his last reply while Kurt was calling Puck:  _That sounds like something I could handle._

When Puck picked up the phone, the noise in the background evoked pleasant memories of Tessera. Kurt automatically put a hand on the tattoo over his heart, the triplet notes he and Puck and Finn had created. They'd added accents and flourishes for Adam and Carl. All five of them bore the same tattoo, resting over their heart - easy to conceal, but always there.

He put him on speakerphone. "Noah."

" _Hey, baby."_ Puck's lazy voice held a smile, which told Kurt that he was feeling good, if not necessarily behaving well.  _"In forty-eight hours I'm totally going to be sucking your dick."_

"Not in the airport, I hope." He had to smile too. "Do you suppose you'll let me hold Beth first?"

" _If you can pry her away from Carole."_

"You're the boss," said Finn. Puck snickered.

" _Dude. You tell your mom that. She's already telling me she gets dibs on her until Shelby takes her home."_

Kurt snuggled closer until he was resting against Finn's shoulder. "I know I say this every time we talk, but we miss you. You, and Sarah. You're going to be amazed at how much work's been done on the house."

" _Well, y_ _ou're never going to believe how big she's gotten."_  Puck definitely sounded smug now.

"I've got an audition tomorrow for the summer community theater production of  _Free to Be You and Me_. It's kind of stupid, but I'm going to try anyway. When's Adam planning to arrive?"

" _Early Sunday morning. He said he'd wake me up when he got there. Our flight leaves in the afternoon, and we'll be home by evening. What the hell is this about Finn's reunion? He hasn't told me anything about it."_

"We can talk about it when you get home," said Finn. "Right now, Kurt has plans for you."

" _Oh."_ Puck's voice changed.  _"Yeah?"_

"He wants to hear about the last time Adam visited." Finn smiled at Kurt. "You ready to tell us what you did?"

They could hear Puck taking a long breath, letting go as much as he could on his own.  _"Yes, sir."_

"Go ahead, Noah. Any time you're ready, you have permission."

This, their ritual, had grown from sharing simple things about what they'd done while they were apart: what they'd eaten for lunch, the people at Tessera, things about school and Beth. Puck, never one for rigid boundaries, had begun sharing the things he and Adam were doing in bed, and that had been unexpectedly  _inspirational_  for Kurt - so much so that Finn had decided to require it. It was a way for Puck to submit to Finn over the phone, and for Kurt to feel closer to both Puck and Adam. Kurt was still a little embarrassed at how much it turned him on, but he'd decided not to complain and to just enjoy it.

The silence went on for a few moments, during which they could hear nothing but Puck continuing to breathe as he let Finn's command settle him.  _"Well... I could talk about last Thursday, I guess? That's the last day he was in town, the day he took off for Pennsylvania. I got up with Beth in the morning, and Adam slept a little. Then I, um. Ellie took Beth for her morning feeding while I woke Adam up. He cuffed me with my arms bound in front of me and he, um. He did me from behind, on my side."_

Kurt squirmed a little. Finn opened his arms, letting Kurt climb in, reclining against him like a chair. Finn's hand traveled across Kurt's chest, his stomach, and down each leg, but didn't touch his cock.

"Did you beg him to touch you?" Finn asked. His soft, low voice landed on Kurt's ear as he spoke. Kurt moaned softly.

" _I kept my hands to myself, but I could kind of rub the head of my dick on the edge of the blanket. You know the part around the edge that's kind of silky?"_

"I know," said Finn. He was hard enough now that Kurt could feel him pulsing against his back, but he didn't seem to want anything more yet. He just nudged up against Kurt every now and then. "Was that enough to get you off?"

" _Not until he switched positions."_  Kurt could hear the way Puck's voice was changing as he spoke. It was like he was talking about a dream instead of something that had really happened, kind of speculative and wondering. Kurt's breath hitched, and he thrust harder into the air, seeking Finn's hand, even though he knew Finn wouldn't touch him yet.

"What did it for you, Noah?"

" _Fuck. He was kind of half on top of me, and he brought one leg up, kind of pinned between him and me? And then he could get in really deep."_

"How many times did you come, before he was done?" Finn was nudging more frequently now, kind of rotating his pelvis and grinding against Kurt's ass from behind. Kurt lifted up a little, and Finn unzipped Kurt's pants for him, edging them down his legs until he was naked. Finn was still wearing his own shorts, but Kurt could feel the heat of his erection now, each throb against the small of his back.

" _Three,"_  said Puck.  _"Fuck... I'm so hard."_

Puck knew better than to ask for his own pleasure, but Finn allowed him to talk about how hard he was, the way he strained against his shorts, the sensations of his cock on the fabric of his clothing. When Kurt whined again, he could hear Puck's groan.

"You want to touch," said Finn.

" _No, I want - I want you to touch me."_

Kurt lifted up so Finn could take off his own shorts, and his boxers, too, until there was nothing but skin between the two of them. When Kurt squirmed a little too much, Finn captured his arms, holding them securely to his chest.

"You'll have that soon, Noah." He reached down and tucked his cock between Kurt's legs. Finn's length was significant enough that Kurt could feel him pressing into the sensitive skin around his ass. Finn kept his own words slow and steady. "Do you need someone to cuff you to the bed so you can't touch?"

" _I'm not gonna,"_  said Puck.

"You're my good boy." Finn paused long enough for Kurt to adjust himself, and then he reached down with a fingerful of thick lubricant, coating the rim of Kurt's perineum with it. He couldn't quite reach him to finger him, but that didn't matter. His cock settled into the crease of Kurt's ass, already slick. Very slowly, he pushed.

"Ohh," Kurt moaned. He could hear Puck's harsh breathing, but he could barely concentrate on it anymore, he was so intent on the sensation of Finn entering him, one fraction of an inch at a time.

"I'm inside him now," Finn said. Kurt didn't know how he could keep his voice so calm, even as he drew back and thrust deeper. Kurt braced his legs on the bed, trying to time his thrust back to maximize the depth of penetration. "Just like I'm going to be inside you."

" _Want that,"_  said Puck, his voice thick.

"Very soon."

There wasn't a lot of talking after that. Every time Kurt heard Puck's noises, or Puck heard Kurt's, there was another cascade of reaction. When Kurt sat up, Finn helped him squat over his cock, canting his hips back to get the best angle, raising and lowering himself with desperate effort.

"I'm so close, Noah," he panted.

" _God, Kurt. Wish I could see you right now, baby. You're so fucking beautiful."_

He smiled. "You always say that."

" _It's always true. Nobody like you. Want you both so much."_

"We want you too, sweetheart. Listening to you... hearing what you did with Adam, it gets us so hard." He raised himself up again, letting gravity do the work, while Finn held steady beneath him. Each time he came down, Finn made an anticipatory noise:  _oh... oh... oh._  He could feel Finn tensing, every muscle taut as he let Kurt set the pace.

" _Yeah, fuck, you know just how good he sounds when he's inside you..."_  Puck sounded so hungry, but Kurt could tell he was already satisfied by what was happening.

_He's getting what he needs,_  Kurt thought. It was a profoundly meaningful sensation to know that was true.

"When Kurt comes," said Finn, his voice beginning to lose its integrity, the words stuttering and forced as he struggled to keep control. "When he comes, you - you come too. Not before. Oh -" He reached out with both hands and gripped Kurt's hips, holding him in place as he thrust into him. "You ready, baby?"

"Right there, god, yes, Finn... Noah, tell me, tell me what he said to you when he cuffed you?"

" _He said I'm the best alarm clock. That every morning I'm there, he wakes up ready to give me what I need."_

It wasn't what Kurt had expected to hear. It made him cry a little, there on the edge of coming, to hear Puck talking about Adam like that, with such love and devotion. "Oh, sweetheart."

" _Yeah, I don't know how I ever got to deserve that, but I'm so fucking lucky. All of you."_

Kurt had to agree. It wasn't anything like the way he'd expected his life to look in any of his dreams or fantasies. The reality was so much more colorful and messy and surprising.

He cried out as Finn's hand wrapped around his own, surrounding his cock, and brought him to an abrupt climax.

"Had to," Finn said. He released Kurt's arms and flipped him over, face down on the bed as he took over thrusting into him. "Had to, the two of you, you're so hot, god... I couldn't wait any longer."

Kurt doubted that. Finn's control over his own impulses had become incredibly precise. But he wasn't going to deny Finn his release - especially not if it meant Finn on top of him, filling him up like that. Kurt wasn't built like Noah; he was pretty sure he didn't have the capacity to have multiple orgasms from penetration, but it that didn't mean it didn't feel good.

" _Can I...? Fuck, it sounds good, whatever's happening."_  Puck didn't sound jealous, but he was definitely reaching the end of his own control.

"You can touch yourself, Noah," said Kurt. His voice was a little muffled by the pillow under his face, but he thought Puck would hear him anyway.

The sounds of Puck, bringing himself off, were especially delicious in the wake of their sweaty lovemaking. Kurt could feel Finn, still inside him, twitching with aftershocks. He sighed and stretched, resting on the bed.

" _Tomorrow,"_  Puck said, already drowsy. He yawned, which made Kurt yawn. " _Tomorrow I wanna feel you inside me."_

"Which of us?" Kurt asked. "Me or Finn?"

" _Do I have to pick?"_

He looked over his shoulder at Finn, laughing in surprise. "I... um. Both of us? I don't even know if that's possible."

"Porn would say yes, definitely," Finn said. "And I think he might really dig it."

"A conversation for another day, Noah. Go into the bathroom and get cleaned up before bed."

" _Yes, sir."_  He sounded pleasantly exhausted. " _Talk t'you tomorrow. Love you."_

"We love you too, Noah." Kurt switched off his phone and set it on the nightstand, breathing a deep sigh. "God. I really need another shower."

"C'mon, we'll go together." Finn heaved himself out of bed and reached for Kurt, helping him to his feet. "He sounded better afterward."

"He always does. I think Adam's been giving him what he needs."

Finn shook his head. "That's good for now, but..."

"What?"

"I don't know." He turned on the shower, waiting for it to warm up before stepping under the spray. He didn't say anything more about Puck until they were clean and had brushed their teeth.

"It's like, what they're doing together," Finn said, "with Adam and Beth, at Tessera? It's like he's... playing house. It isn't his real life. Tomorrow it's going to be over, and he's going to be back here with us."

Kurt considered this soberly. "Are you saying Adam's pretending?"

"No... not really. I mean, Adam's got his life, you know? His grown-up life, his tour... the thing he's been working toward. I don't think he actually wants to be taking care of Puck and his kid every day. Not if it was for  _real._ "

It made him wonder if Finn was talking about Puck and Adam, or about himself and Carl, but Kurt wasn't going to bring up that question before bed. He turned off the light and climbed into bed, pulling the duvet up over both of them.

"This bed's almost big enough for two of us," he said, making Finn laugh. He kissed Kurt on the ear and snuggled up to him from behind.

"Yeah, we're gonna go back to being crowded for a while. I think we can deal, though. The house will be done in the fall. There'll be enough room for all seven of us."

Kurt closed his eyes.  _And whoever comes next_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some plotty stuff and angst before Puck comes home. I kind of want to write a spin-off where Chris "Holly" Holliday and Shannon Beiste are roommates. The Griffin and Sabine connection, as with many things in the Donutverse, was random and unrelated, until it wasn't. Rachel is barely in this story at all, but I wanted to set the stage for fall. 
> 
> -amy

 

Will wasn't exactly sure why Figgins bothered to use the intercom to call him down to the office when he was the only one in the building. Setting up a classroom for summer school was a little more involved than setting up a regular classroom, since his job would be as much about engaging students in wanting to be there as it would be about teaching European history.

But he wasn't the only one, after all. There was a woman sitting in the chair in front of Figgins' desk with shoulder-length blonde hair, wearing a teal jogging suit. She looked up and smiled as he opened the door.

"William, let me introduce you to Chris Holliday," said Figgins. Will shook her hand. "She'll be substitute-teaching Spanish this year for summer school. Mr. Cook will be on medical leave following his unfortunate hot tub mishap."

"Oh!" He smiled at her. "You're Toby's friend?"

"That's right." She looked him up and down. "That was a good shot of you in the paper."

He wondered if people would  _ever_  stop bringing that up. "Uh, yeah. So thanks for helping us out at the last minute. Toby tells me you're thinking about becoming a teacher."

She waved a casual hand. "High school teacher, counselor… they're not too far apart."

"Since you're our Spanish teacher, William, I thought you could be available to help Ms. Holliday if she needs anything over the course of the summer semester." Figgins gave them both a gracious nod. "She'll be using room 117. Will you show her around?"

Once Will had shown Chris the staff lounge and the adult bathrooms, he wasn't sure what else to show her.

"This is my room," he said, indicating 121. "If you want to get some lunch later, I'll be heading out in a couple hours."

"That's awfully nice of you. I think I can find food somewhere in your adorable little town, but if I need anything else, I'll let you know." She handed him a card with a little tilt of her head. The card read  _Christian December Holliday, MSW_  and an address in Dayton.

"Text me if lunch ever looks like drinks," she added. "I'll be sure to say yes."

* * *

_(The following scene was originally posted as a flashback in the season 5 story Love is Careless in its Choosing. -amy)_

Finn sat on the floor beside Kurt's bookshelf, watching him get ready. It made Kurt nervous.

"Do you want me to go?" Finn asked, obviously not planning to go anywhere.

"No. I don't think I'll be any less nervous if you're not here. I'm just always nervous before an audition." He held up the scarf to his shirt, discarding it immediately. "You really think I should do this?"

"I think Lima has one theater company and you should be involved," Finn said. "Even if it's a show you think is stupid, like  _Free to Be You and Me._  I just…"

Kurt paused, watching him. "You just what?"

Finn shrugged. "That, plus the dance lessons with Toby… I'm gonna miss you while you're rehearsing."

Kurt had to lean in for a kiss after that, one that extended into a long embrace with Kurt in Finn's lap. "It's not like you'll be around all the time either, not with summer school. If Noah's going to be busy with Beth most of the summer, this'll keep  _me_  busy."

"You know I agree with you. I'm not being all that rational." He smiled, nuzzling Kurt's nose with his own.

" _Why is it that looking down seems so much higher than looking up?"_  Kurt murmured, which made Finn laugh.

"I recognize that." He reached a long arm up to the third shelf and grabbed the first book from the  _Griffin and Sabine_  series, flipping it open. "Are we going to read the last one? I want to find out how it ends."

"You might not like it," Kurt warned. "Just because they're soulmates doesn't mean they get to have a happy ending."

Finn shook his head, grinning. "Baby, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what that means."

Kurt snuggled in closer. "Yeah? You really think so?"

He kissed him again. "How about you let me try to prove it to you?"

* * *

Kurt let the door slam when he came in, making Carole look up and frown.

"It didn't go well?" she guessed.

"I forgot that theater is mostly about who you know and only a tiny bit about how talented you are." Kurt threw his bag down with a sigh and collapsed in a chair at the table. "And that was my only opportunity for summer theater in Lima, which means my  _other_  alternative is to follow Noah and Beth around all summer and —" He stopped, picking up the envelope with  _Griffin_  written on it in messy script. "What is this?"

"Finn left it for you." Carole watched as Kurt tore open the paper with a careful finger. "He made me check his spelling. Is this some kind of secret code? I didn't really understand it."

The note read:  _It's good to get in touch with you at last. Could I have one of your fish postcards? (And I think you're a great actor, baby, and if the director doesn't see that, he's an idiot.) Love, Sabine._

Kurt flushed, feeling the corners of his mouth bend toward his ears, hard enough to make his face sore. "It's a quote from a book we're reading together. These were the first words exchanged between the two main characters. They write letters and become pen pals, but it's clear there's something surprising and unusual between the two of them."

"Surprising and unusual, hmm? That sounds appropriate for the two of you." She smiled at him. "I must say, you've been good for Finn's literary habits. He didn't read much before the two of you started going out." She watched out of the corner of her eye as he rummaged in the kitchen desk for a piece of paper and an envelope. "Are you going to write a response?"

"Of course I am," he said. "And I know exactly what it's going to say."

 _Sabine_  (he wrote):  _As dad would always say, when in doubt, play for time. (And yes, I know the director's an idiot. I'll just have to find one who isn't.) -Griffin_

* * *

"Finn?" his mom called. She walked into the kitchen without looking up from her phone. "Did you see this picture of — oh."

Finn beckoned her in from where she had stopped in the doorway, turning away to grab a tissue from the counter. "It's okay, mom."

"Honey, what's the matter?" She moved in closer, anxiously watching his face. "Do you want to talk about it? Is there anything I can do?"

"No, there's nothing. What was the picture?" He focused on her mom's phone, displaying a picture of Puck holding Beth wearing a moose hat. "Yeah, I saw that one. Cute. Did you see the pictures of Sarah and the baby horse? Puck says Lydia's got her in the stable every day."

His mom let her hand fall to her side, still watching him in concern. "I know you have plenty of people to talk to, Finn, but I'd like to think we still have the kinds of relationship where you can —"

"It's Carl," he interrupted.

She nodded, looking sympathetic. "I'm sorry. Did you have an argument?"

"Kind of. No. He didn't do anything, I just…" He sighed, giving up any kind of front, and let himself cry. She automatically hugged him, supporting him as best as she could, given their height difference.

"Oh, honey. You don't have to give me details if you're uncomfortable with that, but I want you to know it's not the end of the world."

He laughed, even though it hurt. "Yeah, I know. It feels like the end of something, though. I made… a choice. And it was probably the right one, and he… he didn't like it."

She frowned. "He didn't like it?"

"He let me make it," he said hastily. "He didn't try to stand in my way. But I can… feel the way he disapproves of my choice." His voice cracked on the word  _disapproves_. "I really hate that feeling."

Her face cleared, and she looked sympathetic again. "I remember that so well. Finn, I know Tess would talk with you any time, but you could also talk to Irene. She would be able to understand the other side of this situation, if you wanted to hear her perspective."

"Maybe someday." He blew his nose. "Right now, it just hurts too much."

"Well, Puck's coming home tomorrow, so I know that will help." She smiled hopefully. "And maybe some good news about the house would distract you? The pre-slab pour inspection's been completed and they're pouring the slab on Monday. The contractor thinks we're right on schedule for raising the frame as planned."

He managed a smile. "That's great. I was thinking a picnic for the fourth of July might be kind of cool?"

"I'd be happy to help with that." She touched his hand. "Maybe you'd like to go out to the backyard for a little while? Get out of the house for a bit?"

"Yeah, okay. Good idea."

He didn't mind talking to his mom, especially considering she understood probably more than anyone how he was feeling about choosing to leave this relationship. But right now, he didn't want to talk to anybody about it, because saying the words  _I broke up with Carl_  made it all way too real. He didn't want it to be real. He wanted it to be the way it had been a week ago, when he was Carl's boy, and he had a person with whom he could let  _everything_  go.

It was easier to cry in the backyard without somebody hearing, just because sound didn't travel as well outside as in their too-small house. Finn had gone through several cycles of angry, sad and resigned when he heard his mom say, "Finn?"

He looked up, not bothering to hide his red, blotchy face, and flinched as he saw Rachel standing in the sliding door. He rubbed his cheeks on his bare arm.

"Hey," he said, standing up from the lawn chair. "Come on, uh, out."

"I was just stopping by, but… maybe this is a bad time?" Rachel didn't pause in her approach, until she was standing close, right in front of him. It was close enough to make Finn wonder what her intention was.

"Yeah, it's been kind of a hard day. Sorry." He dug into his pocket and found his handkerchief, the one Kurt made him carry, and blew his nose.

She looked sympathetic. "Maybe I shouldn't ask, but I will. Is it about Puck?"

"Partly." He didn't have easy words for it in any context, but he figured he could come up with something that was both true and not TMI. At least she knew that Puck had gone away to be with Beth, back in April, and had been gone since then. "I miss him a lot. But that's not the thing that's really getting to me today. Or maybe it is, I don't know."

She nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"My… my ex. He went to Chicago with his girlfriend today." He didn't add,  _his girlfriend is Ms. Pillsbury,_ nor did he say,  _my ex is your biological father._  But he could say how he was feeling. "I miss him a lot, too."

"Oh, Finn." She put a hand out, hesitating over his arm where he'd wiped his face, then settling on his shoulder instead. He let her hug him. "I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, well, considering I'm the one who broke up with him, I can't exactly complain." He smiled at her when she let him go. She smiled back, looking hopeful.

"You broke up with him?"

"I couldn't deal with… some of the things we couldn't have." He shrugged. "I have a lot, already."

"You really do." She looked up into his eyes. "At Regionals, before we went on stage. What you said to me…"

"Yeah." He was about to explain how Kurt had wanted them all to say  _I love you_  to everyone, and to pass it on to all the people in Glee — everyone who was part of their weird extended family, and that it didn't have to end just because the club might lose funding — but Rachel spoke before he could.

"I love you, too."

"Oh." He felt more surprise than anything as she reached up and pulled him down into a kiss. It was a pretty forward thing for Rachel to do, and even though it was reasonably tame by his standards, he still was moved by it. "Rach."

"Please," she said rapidly, shaking her head, "don't make me question this. If I get rational about it, I'm never going to accept it."

"It's okay," he soothed, hugging her. "You didn't do anything wrong. And I'm not making any assumptions. It can just be what it is."

She let out a shaky sigh. "That's one thing I've always loved about you, Finn. You never wanted me to be anybody other than who I am."

He kissed her hair, smelling the scent of her shampoo. "Well, that's because you're awesome."

They stood there together for a while, holding one another. Finn could feel the way she was getting worked up, being close to him, even as he was calming down.

"I'll be gone for most of the summer," she said. "I'm leaving for Oberlin in a couple days. But maybe we could, you know. Stay in touch? I could call you."

"I'd like that," he said. "What's in Oberlin?"

"Music camp. It's a good opportunity to combine my love of musical theater, dance and singing." She backed away shyly. "I'd better go. My dad's waiting in the driveway."

"We're going to my mom's family reunion on Monday, after Puck gets home. But I'll have my phone. You can text or call, whatever." He wasn't exactly sure what she wanted, looking at him like that, all longing and hopeful. "I, uh. I'll miss you."

That appeared to be the right thing to say. "I'll miss you, too. Well… 'bye."

It wasn't anything like the experience of saying goodbye to Puck, or how he was missing Carl. Rachel was special to him, and he cared about her, and saying  _I love you_  didn't feel like a lie. But he wasn't going to pretend it was anything like either of those relationships.

He followed her through the house and to the front door, waving as she got back into the waiting sedan. He wondered what she was going to tell her dads.

"We could call Noah," Kurt said from the doorway. Finn didn't even look at him before he shook his head.

"Not right now. I'm not feeling very in control right now, and he always kind of freaks out a little when I get that way."

Kurt came over and slid an arm around his waist. "And the person to help you isn't around at the moment."

"No," Finn agreed. Carl could still help him, and he would, when he got back. They hadn't ended the disciplinary part of their relationship. It was just the love stuff he'd put on hold. He sniffed. "I don't wanna start crying again."

"You want to call Patrick?" Kurt suggested.

 _Blaine,_  he wanted to say,  _his name's Blaine, and I don't think he can help either._

"I've got you, baby," he said. "That's what I need right now."

Kurt took his hand and walked with him into the kitchen. If it wasn't quite true, neither Kurt nor he were going to say so.

* * *

Puck lay in the dark of their room on the third floor of Tessera, staring at the ceiling and listening to the breathing of all the different bodies around him. He still didn't sleep well, most days, but mornings were different now that Beth was here. Hers was the softest breath, quick and almost imperceptible unless he rested his head next to her, his ear right up against her tiny head. Most nights, that's how he ended up sleeping, waking up every half hour or so to make sure she was still breathing, and then going right back to sleep when it was clear she was fine. It probably should have felt really fucking awful to get that little sleep, but it was going on a month now and all it felt like was the biggest gift in the world to wake up and hear his daughter breathing, every half hour.

Across the room, Shelby was snoring gently. She hadn't been there all that long. She'd had classes to teach, of course, but she'd managed to get her principal to sign off on a leave for the last week of school, when she'd turned VA and her classes over to Toby.

It was a little strange to be sleeping in the same space with her, but even more strange to feel the solid trust between them. However they'd done it, they'd developed it over the past few months, as tangible as anything he'd ever had with any adult. He guessed it was a risk, trusting her with his daughter. Maybe it was a stupid risk to take, but he didn't feel like it was any kind of risk at all. Watching her with Beth just confirmed what he already knew, without a doubt, that she was gonna be a fucking awesome mom - and that was exactly what Beth deserved.

But, here he was anyway, keeping Beth to himself instead of letting her sleep with Shelby. It felt selfish, but not enough for him to give her up, not even for one night. She'd have a turn to have Beth to herself soon enough.

And sprawled on the other side of Beth, the back of one finger brushing against her fleece sleep sack, was Adam. Adam, who'd cancelled three concerts and spent a hundred bucks to change his plane ticket to fly out to Lima the week after Beth was born. Who'd flown to Europe twice to do concerts and interviews, then come back to Tessera for more of the same, and hadn't complained once about it. He'd left on the fourth of June to begin his tour in Pennsylvania, had seen Kurt on the eighth in Toledo. Now he was here to bring Puck and Beth back to Lima. Puck had no idea how he tolerated all that flying so well.

It seriously fucked him up to see Adam holding her, smiling and playing with her tiny fingers. Whatever Adam was to him, Puck hadn't felt like he could put him in the box of family. He still wasn't sure what to think about it. But for most of the past month, when he hadn't been performing, Adam had been right there, not complaining about baby puke or 3 AM wakeup calls or diapers or any of that shit. He didn't know what it meant, but there was no way he was going to complain about it.

Puck watched Beth squirm in her sleep and her tiny face contort, ready to cry. Before she could work herself up, Puck scooped her up - she was still so tiny, even though she'd put on three pounds since birth - and deposited her onto his own chest, patting her back. It was a motion that was almost automatic by now.

Adam's eyes opened, focusing briefly on the two of them. He smiled at Puck. Puck could still see remnants of makeup on the edges of his face, smudges of glitter around his eyes.

"You'kay?" he murmured, his hand moving to rest on Puck's arm.

"Fine," Puck assured him. "Go back to sleep."

Adam's eyes were already closed, but he shifted across the bed to lie closer to the two of them. "Wake me up at six and I'll take her first feeding."

Puck probably wouldn't. Adam had been on the road almost constantly since the beginning of his tour, with concerts every night in different cities. But hearing Adam offer made Puck feel warm inside in a way that was hard to ignore.

It was weird to think that neither Kurt nor Finn had even spent one night with Beth yet, hadn't held her longer than five minutes, hadn't fed her or changed her or played with her or anything. It shouldn't have been a surprise to discover that they weren't in love with Beth already — but dammit, it  _was._  He could tell there was going to be this fucking enormous blind spot when it came to Beth, one that made it impossible for him to see her as anything other than amazing. It probably didn't help that Tess and Lydia and the rest of the staff at Tessera were as much in love with her as he was. When he was feeling rational about it - usually following a session with Adam and the paddle - he was able to acknowledge that Finn and Kurt and everybody at home just needed a little time with her, and that it would probably be fine, once they got to know her. But at 3 AM, it was hard to remember what it felt like to be rational.

Six weeks had been a long time to be away from everybody. Sarah had been there with him, but he'd missed Kurt and Finn and Burt and Carole a whole hell of a lot. He missed being Kurt and Finn's boyfriend, and Burt and Carole's foster kid, and all of their slave. Part of his brain knew they missed him too. They told him that every day on the phone, or at least Kurt did, and Puck kind of knew it was true. The conversations they had were sexy and satisfying and made him miss them more, but that was okay. That wasn't the problem.

The problem was, there was this whole other part of himself, this Papa part, that they didn't even  _know._ It wasn't unlike the way it had felt when he'd left Lima for Santa Fe, and come home with his love for Adam in his pocket. He wasn't going to say it wasn't real, any more than he would have said his relationship with Adam wasn't real, even after one day together.

He was just going to need to break people in slowly to his new identity.  _Papa Noah, and Beth. And Daddum._

Beth was asleep again. He knew Lydia had cautioned him about letting her get used to falling asleep on him, but he couldn't bring himself to make her do anything remotely like cry it out. As far as he was concerned, if he could do something to keep her from crying, he was going to do that. Not to mention she tended to sleep longer if she was against his skin.

The dreams came hard and fast when he was able to stay asleep long enough. The boy from the club was willing to hold Beth and nuzzle her head and bounce her, but when she started fussing, he quickly passed her back to Puck, grimacing an apology. Puck kissed him anyway and accepted her happily. Even in his dream, he didn't want to be away from her.

He woke with Adam's hand on his stomach.

"You were talking," he said. "Was it the boy?"

Puck rubbed his face, trying to reach coherence. "He was… it was hard."

"He was hard?"

Puck snorted. "No. Not this time, anyway. He didn't want to take care of her. It was too hard. He gave up." He sighed, reaching for Adam, and held on. "Fuck. I don't care; it's all made up anyway."

"Your mind cares. Your heart does too." The stubble on Adam's face scratched his ear. "I put Beth in bed with Shelby. Let me help you get back to sleep? We've got another hour before she has to eat."

Puck knew there was no shortage of people to take care of Beth, but he still felt an irrational frustration that she was all the way across the room, in somebody else's bed. He sighed, trying to settle down in Adam's arms. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm just going to talk to you. You listen to my voice, and don't worry about saying anything in return. Just close your eyes, Noah."

It was effortless to follow his directions, just as it had always been. He listened to Adam's quiet words, spoken close to his skin.

"In the morning, we'll fly back to Lima. Angela will meet us at the airport and take us back to your house, and Shelby will drive back on her own and take Beth home with her. The tour bus will meet me and Angela and pick us up. If we do it right, nobody will know I was there."

"I'll know," Puck whispered. "And Beth."

He heard his smile in his voice. "You think she'll remember this?"

"I think so. Somewhere inside. She'll know what you sound like."

"It's not like this is the last time we'll ever have to be together. I hope she'll get to know me."

Puck smiled. "Yeah, she will… Daddum."

"Oh, hell." Adam chuckled. He rolled onto his back. Puck turned toward him, kissing his neck, his embarrassed face. "I didn't really mean for you to hear me call myself that."

"It's pretty fucking cute."

"You know, you're not doing a very good job of going back to sleep."

"Yeah, I figured I was pretty safe considering Shelby's right over there. Did you know Finn's got this family reunion next week?"

"Yes, Kurt told me about it."

" _I_  didn't know about it. I mean, maybe he told me and I didn't remember? Or maybe he's not inviting me. I mean, I guess I wouldn't blame him —"

"Noah." Adam's voice was a little raspy. He figured singing all night, followed by a plane flight, might lead to that. "You have any intention of following my direction?"

"If you can convince me it'd be better to sleep instead of sucking you off."

"Oh, so much for Shelby sleeping over there in the corner. No, I don't think we'll be doing that. In twelve hours, though, we'll be with Kurt, and we'll have him with us all night. If you don't sleep now, you're not going to be able to stay awake for that."

Puck obliged by putting his head on the pillow, but he didn't close his eyes. He just looked at Adam.

"Nobody knows me like you do," he said. "And now I'm different. Again."

Adam shushed him, stroking his chest. "Tomorrow."

He blinked back tears. "I don't know who I'm gonna be without her."

"You're going to be yourself. You're Noah. We loved you before you were a papa, and we love you just as much now. All of us. Now, close your eyes."

This time, he followed Adam's command, closing his eyes and keeping them closed, until he fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_(Author's note: We start this chapter with Adam and end with a different musician. As often happens in the Donutverse, initial angst gives way to family bonding, music and sex. Warning for m/m/m stuff, including D/s, discipline and double penetration. -amy)_

* * *

Adam didn't say much on their drive to the airport. After all the good-byes and hugs and expressions of support from the family at Tessera, Puck was grateful for a little quiet in the car. He let Adam hold his hand across Beth's car seat.

"You'll be okay on the plane?" Adam asked.

There would be no contact between the two of them. Adam had drawn the line at booking separate flights, but it made sense that they shouldn't be seen traveling together, even with the extra layer of protection of Adam traveling incognito. Tess' security detail might not be as familiar with Adam's habits and patterns as Jacob was, but they were good enough to satisfy Adam's managers, not to mention Tess herself.

"Sarah will help," he said. "We'll be cool."

Tess' driver dropped Puck, Sarah and Beth off at the terminal. They didn't have contact with Adam again until the plane landed in Ohio and they were waiting for their luggage.

"Puck?" he heard. They both turned to see Angela approaching, smiling at them. "Adam thought you might want some help with your bags."

She led them back to the open parking lot, speaking quiet, cryptic words over a hand-held radio to someone as they walked. Sarah tugged at her sleeve.

"Are you Adam's new security person?"

"Kind of. I'm helping him with all the things he needs. I'm not keeping him safe, but I'm watching him, everything he does, and reporting back to the agent on duty."

She indicated Angela's radio. "Is it like being a spy?"

"It's more like being a video camera," she said, grinning. Puck felt a little shiver of appreciation. Being an object was cool, but being a useful object was way better than being a decorative one.

Adam kissed him as they climbed into the back of the van. The windows were tinted so dark that he could barely see out. "We're going to stay at Carl's tonight, the same as we did in April. He's in Chicago with Emma, so the house is available to us. I figured that would be easier than trying to fit into Kurt's house."

"Shelby said she'd call on her way into town," he said.

The closer they got to Kurt's house, the harder Puck gripped Adam's hand. Adam didn't say anything about that, either.

The house looked ordinary enough, anyway. They'd made room in the garage for the van, and as soon as the garage door had closed behind them, Kurt was sliding the van door open and climbing onto his lap.

"Oh," Puck said, laughing, as he was beset by kisses, "uh… hi!"

"Everybody else will just have to wait," Kurt said, moving the kisses to Puck's neck. He breathed him in. "You're  _home."_

That was close enough to the truth. Kurt looked, incredibly, more beautiful than ever, and also older and taller, which was maybe impossible to have happened in a month and a half. Puck let him exclaim over Beth and handed her out of the van. Sarah stayed behind to help Angela with their bags while Adam and Puck went inside to be kissed and hugged all over again.

By the time Puck got to Finn, watching with a little smile from the back, Puck was ready for a break. He didn't push Finn away, but his hug wasn't exactly enthusiastic. Amidst the noise and confusion of ten people in one room, nobody else noticed, but Finn studied him as he stepped back.

"You okay?"

"Sure," Puck said, shrugging. He looked back over his shoulder at Beth. "She's gonna need to eat pretty soon. I didn't want to feed her on the plane."

"Yeah, okay. You want to do that upstairs?" Finn moved in to touch him, then backed off again. Puck just stood there waiting, feeling stupid. There was no way he could be lost in the middle of so many great people.

Carole had made lunch. Puck sat at the table, listening to everyone talk, and let her and Burt wait on him until he couldn't deal with it anymore. He muttered an apology as he scooped Beth out of Carole's arms and went into his room with the bottle of formula.

The bed was too small, but it was big enough to change her on and to lie down, holding her against his chest as he tried to calm his breathing.

Kurt was the first one to check in on him, pausing in the doorway. "Sweetheart? Do you need anything?"

He'd never had a good answer to that question. The only acceptable one seemed like, "No, thanks." So he gave Kurt that one, even though it wasn't exactly true.

"Shelby will be here soon," he said, "and we can get out of here. Then we can take care of you."

It sounded really good, but Puck couldn't even say that. He just held Beth closer and waited for Kurt to go away.

The next person at his door was Carole.

"I'm willing to give you time with her," she said, smiling worriedly at him, "but I'd be happy to take her if you want to go be with the boys. Adam's looking at pictures of the house."

"I'm cool," he said. That so clearly wasn't true that he felt kind of bad saying it, but Carole didn't call him on it.

"We're really glad you're home, Puck," she said. "You were missed, you and Beth."

That made him smile. "Thanks. I missed you guys too."

When Finn stopped in, Beth had fallen asleep. He was considering waking her up so she'd sleep in the car with Shelby, but he'd never been able to bring himself to do that.

The way Finn was looking at him made him want to get down on the floor and beg him for things he hadn't had in a month and a half, but there was no way he was going to do that with Beth here.

"You're gonna take off with Adam and Kurt right after Shelby gets here?" Finn asked.

"That's what Adam said." He shifted her off his chest and onto the bed, watching to make sure she stayed asleep. Finn looked at her in the middle of the bed as he stood up.

"She's okay there by herself?"

Puck snorted. "She can't move off the bed, dude."

Finn looked embarrassed. "Yeah, of course. I just…" He shrugged. "I guess we can wait another couple days, huh? It's been this long. You guys have a good time tonight."

He gave Puck another hug, this one even more awkward than the one in he'd tried to give in the basement when they'd arrived. Then he left.

When Shelby texted him,  _Ten minutes away_ , he considered what might happen if he took Beth and drove away in his Impala. He knew he didn't have anyplace he could go, but it still was tempting.

In the end, he unpacked all of Beth's stuff and sorted through what Shelby would need and what he could leave behind. She had most of her own stuff, but there were a couple blankets, her favorite rattly frog… and, no, he wasn't going to freak out about a fucking  _toy._

Adam came in and took Beth out of his hands, holding her nose to nose. "Time to say goodbye, baby girl. I'm going to have to rely on Instagram to keep me informed. Tell Shelby she's required to post pictures daily."

"You can tell her yourself," Puck said. Adam grimaced.

"Yeah, I don't think she's all that pleased with me being around. Whatever." Adam regarded him critically. "She'll be here in a few minutes. You're going to have to be ready."

"You think I don't know that?" he snapped.

Adam moved in close beside him, putting an arm around his waist. "All I can say is, it gets easier. Leaving her. I've done it four times now. This will be the fifth. I'm still alive."

He couldn't even say  _you're not her papa,_  because it was obvious to Puck that whatever Adam was to Beth, he  _wanted_  it. Puck nodded silently, looking into her drowsy face with him.

"They didn't ask to hold her," he said.

"Would you have let them?" Adam asked. "Or Carole?"

He didn't answer that. "They could have  _asked."_

"Come on. You carry her bags."

Puck was willing to follow the directions, to do what he had to do, as Shelby pulled into the driveway. He took the bags out to the car and went back for Beth without stopping to say anything to Shelby, climbing out of the front seat.

"Hey," she called. "Nice to see you too."

He ignored her until he returned with Beth, buckled into her car seat, and handed it off to her. Shelby's irritation melted away when she saw Beth, watching Shelby curiously.

"Wow, she's so much prettier in person than she is in pictures."

"Adam says you have to post pictures every day," he said. Adam had told him to, after all. Shelby nodded.

"You changing your mind about this sharing business?" she asked.

After a long moment, he shook his head. "I can't. I'm gonna be a sucky parent if I try to do it alone."

"But you don't want to share."

That wasn't it either, but he didn't have words to explain. He shrugged.

Shelby didn't attempt a hug, which was good, considering he wasn't offering one. "I'll let you know when we get home. And I'll ask if I need anything."

She got in the car and drove away. Puck waited until they were out of sight to go back inside, where Kurt and Adam were both waiting in the hallway. They gathered him close into a collective embrace, holding him. He didn't cry.

"You'll see her in a week," said Kurt. "It'll be all right. We can take care of you."

_Who am I going to take care of?_  he wanted to ask. Instead he followed Adam back into his bedroom.

He managed to sort his laundry for three minutes before he had to get out of there. It was especially awful being in a room surrounded by her things and not to have her there. Carole smiled at him when he picked up a dish towel and a plate from the drying rack.

"You want to take over?" she asked.

"Yes," he said fervently. "Yes. Thank you."

He was vaguely aware of other people walking back and forth behind him, moving loads of laundry to and from his room and the basement, but he focused on the task in front of him, the hot water and the motion of the scrub brush. Eventually there were no more dishes, and he stopped. Sarah was next to him, watching him carefully.

"Kurt's got your stuff in Angela's van," she said. "When you're ready to stop."

"Sure, yeah." He took a step back from the sink. "Are you doing okay?"

"Me?" Sarah laughed. "Tess said I could come back and see the horses at Christmas. You think Tatenui might let me go?"

"Maybe if you don't fuck up in eighth grade," he said.

She tilted her nose in the air. "Just watch me."

Burt and Carole hugged Kurt and Adam as they got into the car, but they must have gotten the memo because they let Puck go without more than a friendly touch.

"We'll see you tomorrow morning, okay? And we'll talk more about the reunion if you want to know about it, Puck. Hope the tour goes well, Adam."

It was the weirdest drive ever. Kurt was sitting next to him, obviously worried, and Adam was sitting in the front seat with Angela, and he didn't have anything to do other than just sit there. Which, okay, big deal, they were driving to Carl's house. He could do that.

Angela let them into the house, waiting while they brought their bags inside. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, her head bowed.

"Is there anything else you require, sir?"

Puck watched with desperate envy as Adam rested his hand on her shoulder. "We'll be upstairs until dinner."

She nodded. "I'll have it ready for you in a few hours."

Kurt took Puck's arm and led him up the stairs behind Adam, who led them up the staircase to the guest room.

"Carl and Ms. P," he said. "They're in Chicago, huh? How's Finn feel about that?"

Kurt gave him a look that was vaguely hurt. "Pretty awful. I think Carl made the plans before Finn broke up with him, but still —"

"What?" Puck stopped on the stairs. "Finn — what do you mean?"

"Didn't he tell you?" Kurt looked up at Adam in confusion. "I must have said something."

"No," Adam said. He looked so regretful. "We didn't know. What happened?"

"Finn ran into someone who knew him, and who also knew Carl. I think the reality of ruining Carl's life was too much for him to deal with."

Puck felt like he might throw up. "Fuck. He didn't say anything at all."

"He didn't want you to worry about him right now. He's trying to cope and not doing a very good job of it, but he still thinks he made the right decision." Kurt tugged on his arm. "Keep walking."

He could do that. He could keep walking toward the room, and take off his clothes and get into the shower when he was prompted. When Kurt kissed him and touched him, he could respond, and without even thinking about it, he could kneel between Kurt's legs in the shower and do the thing he'd said he wanted to do on the phone, while Adam watched and murmured encouragement. He could do all those things.

When Adam took him to bed and put him on his knees, though, he couldn't do anything except cry. He could barely feel the impact of Kurt's paddle on his back and thighs.

"Let him rest, honey," said Adam in resignation. "It's not getting through."

The sensation of their naked bodies surrounding him, loving him despite his failure, kept him crying until he fell asleep.

When he woke up in the middle of the night, the memories of his dreams of Beth and the curly-haired boy were still vivid in his mind, but there was no one to talk to about them. Adam and Kurt were asleep in one another's arms. They hadn't even bothered to put his collar on before they turned off the light. It didn't feel like neglect, but he was sure he'd done something wrong. He wished he could call Sarah. Instead, he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, until eventually he went back to sleep.

* * *

Carole was waiting for them when they returned to Kurt's house the next day. This time she didn't let Puck get away without a hug, and he was able to hug her back.

"Adam got to the airport all right?" she asked.

"He's on his way there now," said Kurt. She nodded, leaving one arm around his shoulders.

"I'm sure it was hard to say goodbye."

It always was, but Puck sometimes looked for an excuse not to drag it out any longer. It was easier sometimes just to cut Adam off than to stand there in his arms, knowing he was going to have to leave any moment.

Finn was sitting at the dining room table with an enormous map-sized book describing the Hudson genealogy.

"You're going to have to explain this to me again," Kurt said to Carole. She turned the book around to face them.

"Yeah, and me for the first time," said Puck. He didn't mean to sound so annoyed, but… fuck, he  _was._  Why hadn't they bothered to tell him about this before?

Carole passed a bowl of apples around. Finn took two. "It's been a regular event for my family every five years," she said. "We're so scattered all over the country now, most of us only see each other at the reunion."

"We rent a campground in southern Indiana," Finn said. "It's awesome. The kids play outside all day, swim in the lake, run around in the woods, and we all stay in cabins at night."

"The three of you can have your own cabin." Carole stood up and went for the stairs. "Hang on, I'll get the campground brochure."

Puck eyed the family tree doubtfully. It extended in all directions. He wasn't sure what kind of tree put branches sideways as well as up, but it was definitely one of those kind.

"That's a lot of fucking cousins," he said.

"Yeah, well, I guess being Catholic still counts for something," Finn crunched into his second apple. "Even if we don't go for the God stuff so much."

"You really fit everybody in one place?" Kurt asked, counting. "Assuming everybody attends –"

"Which they won't, because Uncle Doug and Uncle Harry are totally not speaking to one another, and there's always some reason Aunt Anne can't come."

"—then that's… nine original siblings, plus nine additional spouses, and… twenty-seven cousins, plus seven of  _their_  spouses, and eight of  _their_  kids." Kurt wrinkled his brow. "Did I count that right? Oh, wait, there's two extra spouses because of remarriage. My bad. So a total of –"

"A lot of fucking cousins," Puck repeated. "Seriously, your aunts and uncles must be doing it like bunnies."

"Do you doubt that, Noah?" Kurt said, grinning, and poked Finn in the ribs. "If this one is any example of a standard Hudson model, I can't really imagine they do anything else."

Finn captured Kurt's hands easily, tickling him back with an easy smile. "They're mostly really nice, even if they're more on the ordinary side than my mom and me."

"What's the accurate word for the children of your cousins?" Kurt wondered. "Grandcousins?"

"And you want us both to come," Puck said. He rolled an apple around on the table from hand to hand.

"Well, yeah," Finn said. He reached out and took Puck's hand. "Of course I want you to come. You and Sarah. You've been gone for six weeks. Where else would you go?"

"Cousins once removed? Second cousins?" Kurt pulled out his phone. "I'm looking this up or it's going to bug me all day."

"Yeah, but... are you sure it's a good idea to have us there?" Puck frowned. "Inquisitive family plus three guys equals a whole lot of fucking questions that you might not want to handle."

"I don't care." Finn took another bite and chewed defiantly. "Everybody brings their family. You're mine."

"Okay," Kurt said, tugging on Finn's arm as he held up his phone, "look at this: your cousins' kids are second cousins, and then if you go up one generation, they become first cousins once removed."

Finn peered at the little screen and smiled. "Cool." He kissed Kurt on the side of the head. Kurt leaned his head on Finn's shoulder and sighed happily.

"See, this is what I'm  _talking_  about," Puck argued. "Okay, you guys are easy to explain because your parents are dating, without having to come up with any other reason, but what about me and Sarah?"

"You're my best friend," said Finn, "and you and Sarah are getting adopted by my mom's boyfriend. Plus, you're  _Kurt's_  boyfriend. You need more explanations than that?"

By now he was all-out glaring at Finn. "Dude. That's too many explanations. And are you guys going to be like  _that_  around your family? He's practically your stepbrother. Stepbrothers don't… cuddle."

"We do."

"And another thing?" Puck went on. "I've got bruises. Lots of them. I'm telling you, Adam didn't go easy on me just because I'm a Papa now." Puck tossed his apple at Finn, who caught it. " _You_ want to try to explain  _those_  to the kids while we're playing on the beach?"

"You're not the only one with marks," said Finn.

"And I bet strategically ripped cutoffs would work to hide most of what I saw," Kurt mused, looking Puck up and down with a critical eye. "Or a baggy swimsuit. But you'd look much better in the cutoffs. How far down do the bruises go this time? Sweetheart, take your pants down, would you?"

"What? No!" Puck crossed his arms and glared at them. "You're not taking this seriously. You think your mom really wants to field all these questions?"

"She's always been the black sheep of her family." Finn rolled the apple back across the table to Puck. "Anyway, she's the one who suggested I invite you."

Puck caught the apple before it could fall, and paused.

"Really?" he said. He knew it sounded uncertain, but he couldn't help himself.

"Yeah, man." Finn's eyes softened. "You don't believe me when I say we're family?"

"Whatever," Puck muttered. Kurt and Finn exchanged an unhappy glance, but Puck wasn't in a mood to help them. He pushed his chair out. "I'm gonna go get packed. Just let me know when it's time to leave."

* * *

"Aunt Sally!" Finn rolled down the window and gestured frantically across the dusty parking lot. "Have you seen my mom?"

"Finn!" The dark-haired woman took his hand through the window and smiled. "You've grown up so much – look at you, driving and everything. You guys must be exhausted. Have you been on the road all day?"

"It was only four and a half hours, Aunt Sally. We stopped for lunch in Cincinnati."

She peered into the car. "You must be Burt's son," she said. "Carole's told me all about you. Glad you could come."

"And this is Puck," Finn said, twisting around in his seat to indicate the boy in the back, "and that's Sarah, his sister."

"Hi," she waved. "Finn, your mom and Burt are in number eight. They said they had an extra bed for Sarah, but you guys will have to pick an empty cabin. Most everybody else has already chosen one, but there are a few left. They have double beds for the grownups and bunk beds for the kids. You'll have to fight over who gets the grownup bed."

"I think we can figure it out," Finn said, grinning. "Thanks. It's good to be back."

"I still don't get how I'm supposed to be while I'm here," Puck said, as they wound their way down the dirt road past groups of cabins.

"Do we really need to go over this again?" Finn said.

"I'm just not sure what to say when someone asks me the question." Puck made his voice sound low and jolly. "'Well, hello there, son, you're here with Finn? And how do you two know each other?' What do I say?"

"Say you're in the bottom bunk," Kurt snickered. "They can think what they want about that. Hey – Noah, watch the hair!"

"I don't think anyone needs to know details," Finn said. "I was just going to say we're here together, and let them draw their own conclusions. My family's not going to pry."

"Yeah, but the kids will," Puck said. "I know kids. They're gonna ask questions. So, tell me, am I your friend? Boyfriend? What?"

"Friend is fine for now," Finn said. "But I'm not going to worry about it, and I don't want you to, either. If anyone gives you a hard time, just tell me about it. I'll take care of it."

"Okay," Puck said. "Fine. Whatever."

Kurt and Finn exchanged one of those glances again, but Kurt just said, "After I unpack, I want to meet some more of your family. Carole's stories about her brothers and sisters have got me really curious. Your Uncle Charlie, the one who plays guitar – is he going to be here?"

"Yeah, he's great," Finn said with enthusiasm. "You're going to love him, Puck. He can play anything. And my uncle Phil, he builds canoes and flies stunt kites."

"That's cool," Puck said. "Can I get set up in the kitchen? I'm making dinner, right?"

"We usually just grill at the main lodge," Finn shrugged. "You don't have to bother while we're here." He parked the Navigator next to his mom's sedan in front of a little circle of cabins. "Come on, let's see if any of these cabins are available."

* * *

_"What do you want?"_  said Shelby over the phone.

Puck smiled at her tone. "Just checking in." He unloaded the last of the condiments into the fridge and shut the door. "This place is a dump. It doesn't even have a gas stove."

_"I figured you'd be incommunicado for the next week; family bonding and all that,"_  Shelby said. Puck heard Beth babbling in the background.  _"We're just spending a little time relaxing. Is everything okay?"_

"Yeah, everything's okay." He flopped down on the couch and scratched. "Aren't I allowed to call my… I don't even know what you are? My kid's mom?"

" _Noah, you're a crappy liar. What's going on? Is it Adam? Are you missing him already?"_

"Well, yeah, but I'm coping okay with that. You're getting your time with Beth, and he's back to his tour. It's good."

" _So what else is going on? Is everyone treating you all right?"_

"I haven't even met anybody yet." He already felt restless. He got up again and paced to the window, staring blankly at the serene Indiana wilderness, and then went right back to the couch and flopped down again.

" _Are you going to tell me what it is? Or do I need to get one of your guys on the phone?"_

"It's just…" He eyed the bedroom where Kurt was unpacking. "I don't know what the hell I'm doing here."

_"What do you mean? You're there to relax."_

He sighed. "Yeah, and I suck at it. I already know how this is going to go. Finn's going to have a blast hanging out with his cousins, and Kurt's going to be adorable and make all the aunts and uncles fall in love with him. And I'm going to… what? What am  _I_  supposed to do? Deflect questions about what I do and pretend to be having fun?"

Shelby was silent. Then she said,  _"You're not useless, Noah."_

"Did I say I was?" He kicked the log-cabin coffee table, hard. "Fucking family reunion."

_"Finn and Kurt, they love you. They want you there. You're gonna have to figure out a way to make it work, or else they're going to worry about you the whole time, and it's going to suck for them, too. Get it together."_

"What if I can't?" It wasn't a threat. He just didn't know what to do.

_"Then I'm guessing Finn and Kurt will figure out something to do to help you, right? I mean, they have ways to help. So let them help. If you get stuck, tell them how you're feeling."_

"No, I don't want to be a… they don't…" He glared at the coffee table. "Fuck. You're right."

_"Uh-huh. Now get the hell out of the cabin. I bet you're sitting on the couch feeling sorry for yourself. Hello? State park. Beautiful trees. Go look at them."_

* * *

"… And Goldilocks leapt out of bed, and ran and ran through the forest, and she never saw the three little bears again." Finn closed the book and smiled. "Did you like that, Benny?"

"Read it again, Finny," his cousin commanded, opening the book to the first page. Finn laughed and boosted Benjamin to the floor, handing him the book.

"You can read it yourself for a while," he said. "I bet Kurt will read it to you again before dinner, though. Why don't you go play with Nathan and Greta? They're outside. They have trucks."

Benjamin obligingly ran outside, letting the screen door close with a bang. Kurt looked around at the mess of Cheerios, diaper changing supplies and plastic toys strewn about Uncle Charlie's cabin.

"God. Vacationing with a kid is really… different. This is what it's going to be like in our house, starting really soon, Finn."

"It'll be a little crowded until we can get the new house built," said Finn. "Anyway, I don't mind the kid clutter. I think it's cool. I always liked being a cousin. It's fun taking care of everybody."

"You're such a Papa Bear," Kurt teased. "Or maybe I should say Daddy Bear."

Finn turned red and shook his head. "Don't joke about that here," he whispered. "I'm really not ready to have  _that_  conversation with my extended family."

"Come on. Nobody's around. See, everybody's out there playing racquetball and swimming." Kurt moved closer and put a hand on his chest, rubbing little soothing circles.

Finn begrudgingly accepted a kiss. "So, what, if I'm the Papa Bear, who are you? The Baby Bear?"

"I'm not that little," Kurt protested. "I'm taller than Noah. Shouldn't I be the Mama Bear? I take care of Noah. You take care of both of us. It fits."

"Yeah, and Puck. Well, he takes care of Beth."

"He's been taking care of Cory and Duncan," Kurt said. "Really, Finn, you should see him. He's been amazing with them."

"No, he's great with kids, I'm not questioning that. It's just…" Finn's thought trailed off, and his brow wrinkled. "Puck's not doing so well."

Kurt nudged him. "Maybe he would have done better if you'd told him about breaking up with Carl."

"I wasn't going to interrupt his vacation with Beth and Adam to talk about that," Finn protested. "He's dealing with his own stuff. It's not about me."

"I think maybe it needs to be. I don't exactly know what he's struggling with, but I could hear how upset he was about not knowing  _how to be_  around your family. He's still trying to figure out who he is."

"Who he is? You mean here?"

"I think at all," said Kurt. "He was a mess last night. We couldn't get to him, not even with the paddle. I felt terrible for giving up on him, but…" He shook his head. "I'd like to try again. If you feel okay doing that with your family right here."

"I don't think anybody's going to hear what we do in our own cabin." Finn was quiet for a moment. "I don't know if I can do that for him right now, Kurt."

"Why not? Because of what's going on with Carl?"

He looked troubled. "I don't know. Maybe? I know we've been through this before, but… I think you might have to be the one to take care of him."

"I think you're underestimating yourself," Kurt said. He stood on tiptoe and kissed Finn, then took his hand. "He's just feeling out of place. We need to show him he still belongs, no matter what."

They walked out onto the porch – and were immediately accosted by eight or ten shouting, laughing cousins. The children ran past them, making the wooden frame of the porch shake, and flooded into the kitchen.

"What's going on?" Finn asked one cousin.

"Puck's going to make  _cookies,_ " she said. "And we get to help!"

"Let me just make sure I've got the right ingredients," Puck was saying, as two of the older kids tugged him through the door, one pulling, one pushing. "Charlie said he had – oh, hi, guys. I have chocolate chips back at our place, so let's go there next."

"Then can we play the cowboy game again?" another boy asked. "Please? You said we could do it again after we went swimming."

"No! Puck said we were going to play football," said a girl. "With teams and everything. Finn, you want to play?"

"Uh… sure," he said, smiling at Puck, who was shrugging helplessly as they directed him into the kitchen.

"You guys need to eat a good dinner before we can do any of that stuff," they heard Puck say. "And these cookies are for later. Don't get any ideas about licking out the bowl."

"I think he's feeling his place just fine for the moment," Kurt said, giving Finn an amused look. "Want to go for a walk with your eccentrically snuggly friend?"

"Sure," Finn said. "It's never too early to fuel the gossip, I suppose."

* * *

"The mosquitoes are starting to get worse," Kurt said, slipping on his blue sweater. "I think we should find Noah and get ready for bed."

"Did you see him at all after the game?" Finn asked. Kurt shook his head. "I thought I heard some of the kids say something about the beach. Let's walk down there."

The football game following dinner had been an epic skirmish. Puck had divided the kids into fair teams, put eye black on them and taught them some basic plays. Some of the grownups had wanted to play, too, and Puck had found a way to include them that still made the kids the focus of the game. Kurt had stepped in to kick the field goal to win it for his team, but Puck had made all the kids shake hands and give high-fives to each other before they were done.

"You gotta be sportsmanlike, or it's not worth playing," he'd said, and they had all nodded worshipfully.

It had been a sweltering day. Now that the sun had gone down, the beach was beautiful in the moonlight, the weather mild and breezy, and the humidity surprisingly low.

Finn brushed Kurt's hair back from his face. "My family loves you."

"They're fantastic," Kurt replied, smiling. "I've always wanted a big family, but my dad was an only child, like me."

"Well, they're all yours now, one way or another," said Finn. "Burt's practically part of the family, himself."

Kurt's smile grew incandescent. "Yes, I suppose that's true. And Puck's a Papa, now." He glanced up at Finn through those long lashes, the look that always made Finn forget how to breathe just for a moment. "Do you want kids of your own?"

"Yeah," said Finn. "I do. I mean, I guess we'll all be taking care of Beth, kind of, but... there are a lot of things I want to do before I become a dad. And things are so complicated, but... yeah. Someday. You?"

Kurt hesitated. "I – I think I might. I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"Why not?" Finn was surprised. "Not… because you're gay?"

"No!" Kurt laughed. "Silly. Because I want to perform." He looked out over the water at the lake. Finn watched his gaze go far away, and he wished he knew where he was. When he looked back, his eyes were moist. "I don't know if it would be fair to bring a child into my family and then never be around to spend time with her. Or him."

Finn shook his head. "You think  _any_  parents are ever around? I never got to see my mom when I was growing up. For a while I was at Puck's after school, because my mom worked late. Parents are just busy. That's okay. It doesn't mean I didn't have a great mom." He smiled sideways at Kurt. "You'd be a really amazing dad. Er, Mama Bear."

Kurt put a hand to his mouth and pressed, the tears spilling over. Finn had never known a guy who cried as easily as Kurt, and he thought it was so cool.  _Well, except for Puck,_  he amended,  _but for completely different reasons - and he would kick my ass for saying so._ Finn took Kurt in his arms and held him, not asking why, just waiting, knowing Kurt would tell him when he was ready.

"I – thank you," he said, wiping his eyes with a handkerchief. "You'd be a really amazing Papa Bear." He buried his face into Finn's shirt before adding, "I'd love to do that with you, someday."

"Yeah," Finn said, tenderly. "Me, too."

He thought suddenly of Blaine, off on his own summer vacation, and wondered what he thought of children.

_He's not your family,_  he told himself.  _Boundaries, Finn._

When Kurt was ready, they continued walking down the beach, holding hands. At the same time, they heard strains of music drifting through the night air, and they looked at each other, recognizing the singer.

[ _http://youtu.be/H9YOjlSyZ74_ ](http://youtu.be/H9YOjlSyZ74)

_It first marched left, and then marched right_  
 _And then marched under a chair_  
 _And when I looked where it had gone  
_ _It wasn't even there…_

On the beach was a great mass of children, piled high on the grass beside the sand. They circled a low campfire, glowing with red coals. Some of the children were toasting marshmallows. Downwind from the smoke, buried in six or seven children who seemed to want to be right  _on_  his lap, was Puck. He seemed to be having no trouble playing his guitar, singing, redirecting the three-year-old and mediating a fight between two of the eight-year-olds, all at the same time. Sarah was running interference between the older kids and Puck, directing them from the water to sit on the sand.

Some ways up the beach sat all the parents, Finn's cousins and uncles and aunts, watching in apparent awe and appreciation at the way their children were all somehow being handled by this single teenager with a mohawk and a cocky smile. Finn waved at them, and they waved back.

_I started to cry, but my daddy laughed_  
 _'Cause he knew that I would find,_  
 _When I turned around my marvelous toy  
_ _Would be chugging from behind_

The kids clapped enthusiastically when the song was over, and there were several cries of "Puff the Magic Dragon!" and "Green Grow the Rushes-Oh!" and "Freebird!" There was a brief moment of dischord when one of the six-year-olds burned her finger on her hot marshmallow, but Puck coaxed her into his lap, inspecting the finger and talking with in a serious, quiet voice, and it wasn't long at all before she was smiling again. He let her go with a kiss on her cheek and a cautionary word.

Then Puck looked up and saw Kurt and Finn, and his face lit up with a smile. Both Finn and Kurt gripped each other's hands at the same moment, their breath catching, knowing they were each having the same thoughts. Finn laughed, looking at Kurt, and they leaned together, watching the boy they both loved do what he did best.

"Okay," said Finn. "Never mind what I said earlier. You be the Baby Bear. He's totally the Mama Bear."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed with satisfaction. "No question."

Puck quieted his crowd with a serious glance and began a new song. It took Finn a few minutes to recognize it, but when he did, he craned his ears to hear. No one would know the words to this song but them, because it had been written on Finn's behalf, about Puck. He'd never heard Puck sing it before.

[ _http://youtu.be/Lg31XQR22zg_ ](http://youtu.be/Lg31XQR22zg)

_Cold as ice_  
 _And more bitter than a December_  
 _Winter night_  
 _That's how I treated you_  
 _And I know that I_  
 _I sometimes tend to lose my temper_  
 _And I cross the line  
_ _Yeah, that's the truth_

_I know it gets hard sometimes_  
 _But I could never_  
 _Leave your side  
_ _No matter what I say_

_Cause if I wanted to go I would have gone by now,_  
 _But I really need you near me to_  
 _Keep my mind off the edge_  
 _If I wanted to leave I would have left by now_  
 _But you're the only one that knows me  
_ _Better than I know myself_

Finn didn't think he'd ever seen a group of kids listen so well, not at school, or church, or anywhere. Puck cast a spell with his voice, his presence, and his magical guitar. Not a listener was unaffected, least of all the two boys who loved him so well.

"I wish Adam could be here to hear this," Finn whispered, and Kurt nodded, leaning close against his arm.

_All along_  
 _I tried to pretend it didn't matter_  
 _If I was alone_  
 _But deep down I know_  
 _If you were gone_  
 _For even a day I wouldn't know which way to turn  
_ _Cause I'm lost without you_

_I know it gets hard sometimes_  
 _But I could never_  
 _Leave your side  
_ _No matter what I say_

_I get kind of dark_  
 _Let it go too far_  
 _I can be obnoxious at times_  
 _But try and see my heart_  
 _Cause I need you now_  
 _So don't let me down_  
 _You're the only thing in this world  
_ _I would die without_

_Cause if I wanted to go I would have gone by now,_  
 _But I really need you near me to_  
 _Keep my mind off the edge_  
 _If I wanted to leave I would have left by now_  
 _But you're the only one that knows me  
_ _Better than I know myself_

After the song had ended, the silence continued for a moment or two, punctured at last by a plaintive, "I'm hungry," from one of the four-year-olds. Puck produced a graham cracker from a box and handed it over, then distributed the rest of the crackers to the chorus of "Me, too!"

"I think it's time for me to get going," he said reluctantly. The protest was deafening. He looked at Kurt and Finn with a sheepish smile.

"We're not in any hurry," said Kurt, with a wave of his hand. "Go on. We'll stay and sing, too, right?"

"You bet," said Finn. He hunkered down in the grass amid a chocolate-smeared crew of cousins. They piled on top of him. Kurt was similarly beset by a stumbling, sleepy Benjamin, who fell asleep in his lap within minutes. Sarah came over to sit beside them.

"I'll sing too," she said, rolling her eyes. "As long as Noah can keep going, I can."

They stayed as the night slipped away and sang the songs they knew, including several from Glee, many in three-part harmony - though even Kurt was not inclined to get up and demonstrate the choreography – while the small crowd watched and listened and occasionally applauded. Most of the smaller children went to sleep, but a few doggedly remained awake, refusing to give in to sleep for no other reason than the fear of missing something.

Over time, the adults crept up the beach and ringed the assembly of children with their warmer bodies, keeping the night breezes at bay, and added their voices to the singing. Uncle Charlie brought his own guitar out for a little while, and he and Puck managed a credible  _Hotel California_  duet.

Puck's fingers' endurance lasted longer than his voice, but he continued playing in smiling silence, readily fielding requests from his appreciative audience. He knew almost everything they asked for, and when the requests subsided, he continued playing songs and letting the others sing along.

Then he began one that seemed to be an instrumental. Kurt stiffened beside him, listening.

"Do I know that one?" Finn asked, listening with a cocked head. Puck shook his head, but Finn persisted. "Yeah, I know that. I've heard it before. I know I –"

"Noah wrote it," Kurt said quietly. After a moment, Puck nodded.

"Before I went to Santa Fe," he rasped. "I recorded it with Brad and Mercedes. You… I was inspired."

Finn found himself at a loss for words. They both listened to the song until it was done. Then Finn turned to Puck, feeling heat and a clear imperative.

"It's time to go to bed now," he said.

"Yeah, okay," Puck said, getting to his feet. He stretched enormously, cracked his back and held his guitar aloft in one hand while various cousins clung to his waist and demanded "just one more song!"

"Sorry," he said, his voice nearly too hoarse to carry across the circle, "but it's everybody's bedtime. We might be able to do this again tomorrow, if you get some rest tonight."

The few remaining hangers-on gave only feeble protests as their parents gathered the sleeping and nearly-sleeping children and led them up the beach to their cabins. More than one adult stopped to shake Puck's hand or hug him as they left.

When they were alone on the beach, Puck finally turned to Finn and Kurt – and realized the way they were looking at him. He froze.

"Guys, I –"

"Go back to the cabin," said Finn. "Now."

Kurt propelled Puck along the beach with one hand on his back.

"Did I do something wrong?" Puck said uncertainly.

"No," Finn said. "I need you."

Puck stumbled, caught himself, and looked back over his shoulder in confusion. "Need me for what?"

"God," groaned Finn. "Just get inside."

He hurried up the creaky porch and into their dim cabin. Finn didn't bother with the lights; he seized Puck by the shoulders and kissed him, forcefully, deliberately. Puck made a noise of surprise, and his eyes were wide open - until Kurt's arms came around him from behind, under his arms, sweeping across his chest with big strokes. Then Puck relaxed into their embrace, and with every breath his lids dropped lower, until he was nearly comatose under the torrent of their affection.

"So can you tell me exactly what I did to deserve this?" he said when they paused for breath, his voice thick and gravely. "Cause I want to make sure I do it again."

Finn sighed, resting the side of head on Puck's. "I've really been a crappy boyfriend if you have to ask that."

"What are you talking about? You haven't heard me complaining."

"No, and you wouldn't." Finn and Kurt's eyes met over his shoulder, and Kurt slipped away into the bedroom without a word. "But you don't get how much I need you."

Puck went still, his gaze shifting uncomfortably over the space between their bodies. "I don't understand."

"What we're doing… I mean, half the time I still don't really feel like I know what I'm doing." Finn ran a broad hand over Puck's back. "But you seem to think that you don't…  _belong."_

"Do we have to talk about this now?" snapped Puck. "Things were just getting good."

"Yeah, man, we do." Finn's hand tightened on Puck's neck. He hissed and squirmed in Finn's grip. "You're not  _extra,_  okay? It's not me and Kurt and then this other guy. You're as much a part of my family as… as your guitar is a part of you." He pulled Puck into his chest, crushing him against him fiercely. "Why didn't you  _tell_  me you wrote a song for us? Jesus, didn't you know how much that would mean to  _me?"_

"I wasn't ready to share it with you, then." Puck whispered. "Not when I was leaving town, thinking I was never gonna..." He stared at the floor, hard. "And afterward... well, I could hear the flaws. It could have been better."

"Forget that! If you made it, I love it. You don't have any issues with cooking for me. How is this different?"

"'Cause I'm a fucking awesome chef," he said, grinning into Finn's chest. "I'm only a kind-of good songwriter."

"That's what I'm saying," Finn said patiently. "You don't have to be  _good_. You don't have to impress me _._  You just have to be  _you._  That's what I need." He stripped Puck's shirt over his head and tossed it on the couch. "I need it a lot."

Puck stood where Finn put him, breathing heavily into the darkness. His eyes swung back and forth, to the bedroom doorway and to Finn again, not quite knowing where to land.

"That's not it, though," he said. "It's not enough for me to just be me. Oh— fuck." He groaned softly, gasping at the tug of Finn's fingers on his nipple ring.

"That's right," Finn whispered into his ear. "Sometimes you have to be who we tell you to be. Sometimes you just have to let go of everything you are, and start from — nothing."

"Yes, sir," Puck whispered back. He shook when Finn's hands tightened on his arms.

Then he stepped forward into Puck, forcing him back, until they were up against the wall, and Puck's breath was coming in short, erratic bursts. He moved in close enough that Puck could feel his breath on his own face.

"But  _I_ get to decide when you do that. Me, and Kurt. Do you want to hear who I want you to be most of the time?"

"Yes please." The words slid out between slack lips as Puck tipped his head back, giving Finn's mouth access to his neck. Finn grazed Puck's jaw with his teeth, digging in hard with his tongue, until Puck was babbling incoherently.

Then he reached up and slid Puck's collar around his neck, fastening it securely with the buckle. He looped a finger through the ring and pulled Puck's face close to his, so they were nose to nose.

"I want you to be Noah," Finn said, fierce and low. "The kid I met in second grade. The guy who learned to make breakfast for his Ma. The one who watches out for his sister. Who figured out what he needed and brought it back from Santa Fe with him when he cut his hair, and taught me and Kurt all about it. The one who made a baby with Quinn, and who's her Papa now. The one who knows that, no matter who's around, no matter what he's doing, he's always going to matter to me." He was so close that it almost hurt to look into his eyes — but Finn made him do it anyway. "I want you to be the fuck out of him."

Finn swiveled Puck's body so it was facing the bedroom, and gave him a short swat on his bottom.

"Right now. Come on, move it."

They stepped quickly into their bedroom, but when Puck saw what was on the bed, he had to pause and stare.

Finn smiled at Kurt. "Ready?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," said Kurt, sighing, his eyes dark and liquid. He was gloriously naked, stretched out on the bed, his arms behind his head. He gazed up at Puck, who was standing open-mouthed in the doorway, and beckoned him closer with one hand. "Noah."

While Finn found the tools he needed in his bag, Puck made short work of his cutoffs and climbed across the bed on top of Kurt, accepting his embrace with hesitant wonder.

"Holy shit, Kurt," he breathed, burying his face into Kurt's neck. "You're so fucking beautiful."

"You say that every time." With a little gasp, he curled into the pressure of Puck's lips and tongue.

Finn chuckled. "It's always true, baby."

Finn shed his own clothes and knelt at the end of the bed, placing a hand on Puck's calf. Puck flexed his leg and leaned into Finn's touch, and Finn brought his hand up his leg, stroking behind his knee, to his thigh. He traced the fading bruises on Puck's buttocks with one finger and listened to the sweet music of Puck in Kurt's arms.

"He's going to hold you," Finn told him. "No restraints here. We're gonna work with what we have. Kurt, you got him?"

"I'm ready."

There was no doubt about that; Kurt had been hard before Puck joined him on the bed. But Finn wasn't thinking about that. His first task, before anything else happened, was to help Puck fall apart.

He leveled his hand on Puck's back, resting it briefly on his skin before giving him a  _smack._  Puck didn't even jump; he just groaned and wrapped his arms tighter around Kurt.

"All right?" Kurt asked gently.

"Yes sir," Puck muttered. "Missed you, baby."

Even when Finn switched to the wooden paddle, Puck barely seemed to notice. The bruises on his skin weren't too intense, so Finn didn't think it was that he couldn't feel it.

"We missed you so much." He could hear the tears in Kurt's voice. "I'm so glad you had that time with Adam, but I wanted you home. Home, with us."

Puck began to make little thrusts with his hips, which in turn caused Kurt to sigh more deeply and use his legs to restrain Puck, pulling him closer and restricting his motion at the same time. He buried his face in Kurt's shoulder as Finn sped up his swats.

"We saw you tonight," he said. "The way you were, with the kids. That person… that's part of you too."

Puck relaxed a little more into Kurt's body. "Papa Noah," he said, his voice harsh.

"Yeah. You chose that." His rhythmic blows were leaving bright spots of red on Puck's skin. He switched to the other side. "And you're so damn good at it. You know how proud we are of you?"

Puck shuddered. "Yeah?"

"Noah,  _yes,_ " Kurt said. He cupped Puck's head and rested it on his chest, absorbing the force of Finn's blows. "Hold still, sweetheart. Feel it."

"I feel it," said Puck. He sounded anguished. "I just can't believe it. I can't."

Finn wriggled a lubed hand between Puck's trapped thighs and quickly, carefully, inserted his fingers into him. Puck whimpered, but didn't resist.

"We're going to fill you up," Finn said. "Starting with Kurt. On your knees, now. Let him inside you."

Puck struggled to kneel over Kurt. His own cock jumped and bobbed before him as Kurt slid slowly into him. He exhaled, his eyes flashing at Finn over Puck's shoulder, and began to thrust, keeping the pace measured and even.

"I was ready when you sang Adam's song," he said. "Sweetheart, that was amazing."

"It's the way we began." Finn felt Kurt's rhythm falter momentarily, then pick up again with renewed determination. "I sang to you, on stage. I sang to Kurt, and he sang to me. And you sang to both of us. I needed Adam to help me make a song for you." He stroked Puck's back as Kurt drove into him. "Turns out you're the one who  _wrote_  the song for all of us. That's someone you are, too. Musician. God, so proud of you."

Finn couldn't see Puck's face, but he could hear his sounds, raspy and desperate. He was starting to take over the thrusts. Finn wasn't going to have that.

"Stop," he said, putting pressure in the center of Puck's back. They stopped immediately, both of them breathing hard. "Kurt, you ready for this?"

"Trust me," he said, laughing. "I've been spending a lot of time imagining it, ever since Noah mentioned it. I'm ready."

"Finn?" Puck tried to turn his head to look at him, but Kurt kept him still.

"It's time for you to put all that down. All those amazing things you are, everything you can do. You need to let them go." Finn quickly lubed his own cock. Kurt wasn't kidding about anticipating this; he was going to need all the tricks he'd ever learned about holding off his own pleasure in order to make this work. "It's time for you to be… open. Empty. Just let us fill you up."

"Oh," said Puck. His confusion was gone. He sounded amazed. "Oh, god."

Finn positioned himself carefully, over the connection of Puck and Kurt's bodies. He added a slippery finger to the slide of Kurt inside of Puck, listening with interest to the change in their sounds. Eventually he added a second finger.

Kurt whined. It was a delicious, inspirational sound. "Finn…"

Finn carefully withdrew his fingers. Then he took a deep breath. Watching the rhythm of them was making him dizzy. Using his fingers to tuck the head of his cock into Puck's tight, clenching hole, he gripped Puck's hips and pushed, hard.

This time, Kurt made a low, melodic noise of approval, while Puck was the one to whine.

"Who are you?" Finn demanded, even as his body reacted to the impossible squeeze of Puck's body around them.

"Who?" Puck echoed.

"Tell me." He kept pushing, holding them steady in both hands, as deep as he could go. Puck was slumped forward on Kurt, but his ass was pulsing, contracting with the sensation of two cocks inside him. "Who are you?"

It took Puck a long moment to answer. "Yours."

Finn felt himself relax. "That's right. You're ours. Ours to kiss, to fuck, to love. That's what we want to do. You got it?"

"Yes sir." He sounded so grateful, Finn wanted to cry. He knew how that felt. He'd seen Blaine be in that space. He'd been there himself. This was what Puck needed.

"Let Kurt hold you up," he said. "Don't try to do any of it. That's what we want. We're going to take care of you."

If that was at all confusing to Puck, he didn't show it. He went limp in Kurt's arms.

"Go on, baby," he said to Kurt, stroking the edge of his arm, wrapped around Puck's back. "You want to set the pace?"

"I don't know how much I can do from here," Kurt told him, his voice breathy. "But — oh, Finn. I can  _feel_  you."

"I know. I think —" He pulled back slowly and pushed back in, the exquisite compression almost too intense. He set his jaw. "I think I'm not going to last very long."

"I think that's okay," Kurt said. "Really. You take over. We're both ready to take what you give us."

That was enough to spur him on. He paused to add a little more lube to Puck's perineum, the skin stretched thin and tight around them both. Just that act set off another round of contractions.

"I think he's already coming," Finn said. He pulled back and pushed in again, feeling Puck quivering in response. "Hang onto him, baby."

Slowly, with effort, Finn managed to get deeper, until he was bottoming out with each thrust. Only then did he relax, let himself go a little bit, and add his own voice to their chorus. It was incredible that Puck was able to accommodate the girth of the two of them together — but then, he knew well how that part of his body could stretch. He listened carefully to the noises for anything that sounded like pain or discomfort, but heard only pleasure, only the sounds of Kurt and Puck and lust and exquisite tightness.

"Kurt, baby," he said, in awe, "I can feel – I can feel –"

"I'm here, Finn," Kurt said, his breathing ragged. "I feel you, too. God, I missed us."

Puck was rocked back and forth between them, Finn setting the pace for all three boys as their sweat-slick bodies came together again and again. With every thrust, he made a shuddering, helpless sound. Finn briefly considered gathering Puck's arms behind him and holding them there, but decided they probably felt better wrapped around Kurt, cradled on his chest.

He watched Kurt squeeze his eyes shut and bite his lip, gripping Puck's shoulders tightly. Finn leaned over and kissed Puck on the neck beside his collar.

"Baby," Finn said. "Are you close?"

Kurt intertwined his fingers with Finn's, around Puck's heaving back. "I'm coming," he said breathlessly, tensing, "oh, my god, Noah – Finn – so incredible…"

Finn made one final thrust against Kurt, groaning, as Kurt cried out. Finn made a silent prayer to whatever forces had allowed him to last this long before he joined them, slamming into Puck with joyous, grateful release.

They held the connection for one exquisite moment before they all collapsed. He carefully slid out of Puck and lay down on the bed beside them, so as not to squash them under his weight. Puck was still and nearly comatose on top of Kurt.

"You guys okay?" he said softly, giving Kurt's shoulder a squeeze.

Puck nodded, bonelessly, and Kurt smiled, dazed and spent. "Yeah."

"It was the most – " Finn heard, and it took him a moment to recognize Puck's croaking voice. "I've never felt so –" He shook his head. "Fuck. No words. Just love you guys."

"That's enough," said Finn, smiling. "That's just fine. Do you understand what we're telling you now?"

Puck slowly nodded. "You're… you guys want me the way I am. Whatever way that is."

"Yeah." Finn stroked his sweaty head. "You're awesome. All the ways you are."

He raised himself up carefully on both elbows, looking down on Kurt.

"You want me like that?" he asked. "Really?"

"Yes," Kurt said emphatically. "Yes, with all my heart."

"I don't really get it," Puck said, shaking his head, but he was smiling.

"I know. I think we can keep working on it." Kurt reached up between them and touched his face. "All the things you do for us, that's not what makes us love you, okay? That doesn't mean you can't do them. We're going to get home and you'll be — our slave, all over again. But when it's just us, just Finn and Kurt and Noah…" He looked over at Finn, his eyes full of gratitude and love. "That's the best."

Puck rested his head back on Kurt's chest. "If I'm just Noah all the time, does that mean you won't fuck me together like that anymore? Because that was awesome."

"I think we can definitely do that again," said Finn. He closed his eyes in satisfaction. "All you have to do is ask."

* * *

Puck sat on the bench, several feet back from the fire, watching the kids scatter down the beach. He let his guitar case slip out of his hand to rest on the sand. There was only one person next to him. She was too young to be one of Finn's uncles or aunts, but she was still older than him. He decided he didn't have to watch his language.

"Fuck," he groaned.

The girl grinned. "The kids wear you out? I thought you were a football player, like Finn. Don't you have infinite energy?"

"Sometimes." He thought of what it had been like to be awakened in the night by Beth's cries, the first time, and the second time, and the  _third_  time in one night. "I can think of a couple things that would tire me out."

She laughed, kicking her sandaled feet in the sand. "Sure, I just bet."

"Not that." Her teasing made him smile. "I've got plenty of stamina for  _that._  Not even the kids, mostly. Things in the middle of the night."

"Things," she said, leering. He pushed her shoulder, laughing back.

"Things," he agreed. "Dreams, usually. Not even the sexy kind."

"Mmmm." She waved the notebook in her hand. "What kind, then?"

_The kind in which half-imagined curly-haired boys make breakfast for me and my daughter. Or give me awesome blowjobs. Okay, maybe those are the sexy kind._  He shrugged. "Dreams are just dreams. I don't even know if they matter."

"Oh, they definitely matter. Haven't you ever had a dream come true?"

Puck was about to snort at that question, but then he paused, resting his hand on his guitar case. He looked out at the water, the gentle tide rolling in over the sand.

"Yeah," he said at last. "I guess I have."

She tapped her notebook with her ball-point pen. "Well, tell me about it. I'm a little low on inspiration tonight, and I need some."

Puck let his eyes close. "I just… never thought I'd have somebody who really gets me, you know? Somebody who always laughs at my jokes. Somebody who's my best friend and still turns me on, like, every time."

"Kind of awesome to have a guy like that," she agreed. "Or I guess a girl, in your case."

"No, you were right the first time. It's a guy. He's… I don't know." Puck picked at the hem of his shorts, where his cutoffs were shredding. "He's real. The most real thing I ever had, other than my sister."

"Real how?" He heard the notebook opening, her pen scratching on the surface.

Puck snorted. "You want details?"

"Of course I want details. Don't pull any punches. Make it real."

"The first time he touched me. I mean, he'd  _touched_  me lots of times, but once we both knew we wanted it like that. We'd been friends for eight, nine years, and when I felt his hand —" He took a breath, reliving the memory of Finn's hand pressing to his chest, gripping his neck hard. "It was like,  _this is real."_

"He was okay with that? After all that time just being your friend?"

Puck nodded. "I think he wanted it more than I did, but I didn't know that until afterward. We were both being pretty stupid about it. It was easy to feel scared, you know? Of ruining what we had, but after that, both of us couldn't help asking,  _how were we not doing this every night, all night?"_

She chuckled in response. "You guys jumped right into it, huh?"

"God, yeah. Jumped right in and didn't look back. I mean, it's not like we don't have problems? But… yeah. No regrets."

"He's one of those dreams, keeping you awake?"

Puck opened his eyes, looking at her. She was grinning. "Actually, he was the one having the dreams about me. Kind of awesome to find  _that_  out."

"Not everybody gets their dream guy. Although sometimes the reality's not as good as the dream."

"No," Puck agreed. "Sometimes it's better." He indicated her notebook. "What're you doing, anyway?"

"Lyrics," she said. "New album's coming out this summer, and nobody's been able to sell me on a title track. It's been hell trying to market the thing without a name."

He squinted at the girl. "You're Finn's… cousin?"

"Our dads were brothers. Hudsons. The Daniels let me keep coming to reunions, even after Uncle Christopher died." She tapped her notebook again, which had the name KATY scribbled in black marker at the top. "Aunt Carole was always the nicest. It was good to have an ally, after I stopped being the good Christian girl."

"She's pretty awesome," he said. "You were singing with us along last night around the fire."

"Of course I was." Katy reached out and poked his guitar case with her toe. "So you gonna open that thing up, or are we just going to sit here all night gabbing? I want to try out a melody with these lyrics of yours."

* * *

The cabin was nearly empty, all the luggage piled along the wall, the kids' bags of toys and things to keep them busy in the car right in front. Finn snagged a pacifier from under one chair and tucked it into the diaper bag.

"It's all cleaned up," he heard a girl say from the kitchen. "I'm going to take my stuff out to the car." He saw his cousin's face appear in the doorway, startled. "Oh - I thought you were Russell."

"Hey, Katy," said Finn, smiling. "Uncle Keith already took all your stuff out. All that's left is Uncle Charley's."

She nodded, glancing out the window. "I'll grab some of his bags, then. They have a lot of stuff to carry around for the extra people."

Finn didn't really think the kids were  _extra,_  exactly. It wasn't as though they were accessories or pets or something. "Did you have a good time at the reunion this year?"

"Yeah, sure. It's a little weird being one of the grownups now. I guess twenty-six counts as a grown-up, huh?" She made a funny face, and Finn laughed. "But I still love being here. I feel really lucky your mom's family still let us keep coming to the reunion, even after your dad died. I'm not actually part of the family anymore."

"Yeah, you are," he protested. She nodded, leaning on the wall.

"You guys are all so much a part of my childhood, who I am. Even now."

"I bet you don't have too many places you can go and just kick back and relax anymore. To me, you'll always just be cousin Katy who helped me beat Zelda on the NES when I was six."

She sighed. "I'll tell you, Finn, fame is a little overrated. Sometimes I just want to be able to... go buy donuts or something."

Finn choked on a laugh. "Everybody needs donuts, sometimes." Then he eyed her, adding, "I've... done a little hiding of my own, this year, so I think I get it, kind of."

"Maybe you do." Katy raised an eyebrow. "You and Kurt... I don't think that was just stepbrother stuff I saw between the two of you?"

Finn looked away, singing under his breath, " _I kissed a boy / And I liked it..."_  He ducked away from her outraged fist coming down on his bicep. "Hey!"

"You're hilarious," she assured him, pummeling him again. "I thought it was a little suspicious what Aunt Carole was saying about dating your friend's father."

"Oh, no, that's totally true," he said. "They're really cute together. What can I say? Birds of a feather, or something like that?"

Katy smirked. "Something like that. My dad told me your mom used to date girls."

Finn avoided Katy's gaze. "Um… maybe. Where'd you hear about that?"

"Oh, yeah. There was this whole long distance relationship with a woman in the south somewhere... Georgia? Anyway. That was a long time ago, before you were born, I think." Her smile grew. "You'll have to ask Aunt Carole, I guess? I can't imagine she'd lie to you."

Finn shook his head in patent denial. "No, I'm sure she wouldn't. She's told me all kinds of things I didn't want to hear."

"Whatever," she said, waving her hand. "You and Kurt are very sweet. And your friend, Puck, he turned out super hot. Although I'd tell him to grow the mohawk again."

"Hey, I  _like_  the - um." Finn paused, staring at Katy. If there was anybody in his family he could tell, she was it. He took a deep breath. "Okay, so... it's not just me and Kurt. It's... the three of us. Me, and Puck, and Kurt."

He watched her take this information in, digest it, and accept it, all in the course of about four seconds. "Yeah, okay, I can see that. Oh, hey, do you remember that show  _The Smurfs?_  I just signed to do the voice of one of the characters in a movie remake. I get to play opposite Neil Patrick Harris!"

Finn sighed. "Katy. You're seriously not going to say anything else about it?"

She shouldered Uncle Charlie's biggest duffel bag. "Nope. I'm getting married this fall, and I'm trying to plan a tour and a biopic concert film and debut a perfume scent. I really don't care who you're sleeping with, as long as it makes you happy. Plus, Puck? He's totally in love with you." She leaned in and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "See you in November at the wedding. Bring your guys along - I'll send an invitation to  _Mr. Finn Hudson & Guest & Guest."_

He chuckled, watching the screen door bang closed behind her as she strode out. Maybe it wouldn't be as hard to come out to his family as he'd thought it would be. Of course, compared to the rest of the family, Katy was about as liberal as they came, but... maybe it wouldn't be a complete disaster to tell the rest of them? Maybe it would be better not to have to worry about hiding anymore.

Finn touched the kitchen counter, the heavy log coffee table, the threadbare couch. He'd been coming to this same campground with his family for reunions every five years since he'd been a kid. As far as he knew, they'd be doing it five years from now. Maybe with his two boyfriends and a five-year-old. And - who else? How complicated was his family going to get? Again, he thought of Blaine, and Adam, and Rachel.

He pulled out his phone and sent Kurt a text.  _Cabin's empty - heading out now. Meet you at the car. I love you._

There wasn't much that was simpler than that.

Puck was leaning against the Navigator when he got there. Finn didn't even bother to look around himself to see if anybody was watching. He just leaned in, running a hand along Puck's startled face, and kissed him. When he leaned back, Puck was staring at him.

"What was that?"

"You're seriously asking me?" He smiled. "Can't I just love you sometimes?"

Puck's smile burst across his face like a sudden storm. "You're such a dork." He pressed a CD into Finn's hands. "Here. Something to listen to on the way home."

Finn glanced over at Kurt, wheeling his suitcase down the path toward them. "What is it?"

"Your cousin Katy found some inspiration. She's going to go back to Santa Barbara and spend a little time in the studio." Puck shrugged, climbing into the back. "The story she tells might sound kind of familiar."

* * *

Music credits:

"[The Marvelous Toy](http://youtu.be/H9YOjlSyZ74)" by Tom Paxton, copyright 1968. 

"[Better Than I Know Myself](http://youtu.be/Lg31XQR22zg)" performed by Adam Lambert, copyright 2012. 

Last song is uncredited until the next chapter, but you can probably figure out what it is. =)


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt nudged Puck across the back seat of the Navigator. "You're buzzing."

" _You're_  buzzing," Puck muttered, his words slurring in sleep.

"Noah, your  _phone._ " He nudged him again, harder. "You're going to have to start actually answering your texts, you know that? Now that you're a  _father."_

He actually looked a little guilty as he sat up, struggling to see what was on the screen.

"It's Shelby," he said, sounding relieved. "She's waiting for us at Irene's in Columbus, with Beth."

"I'll call my dad and let him know we're pulling off the highway," he said. "He wanted us to stay together on the way home."

His dad sounded a little surprised when Kurt told him the destination.  _"Irene's?"_

" _We don't have to go in,"_  he heard Carole say.

"Dad, it was just a convenient location in between the campground and Shelby and Lima."

" _No, no, it's… I mean, we're here. It would be stupid not to go in. Right?"_

" _She's not anticipating a big scene, Burt,"_  said Carole. _"I didn't tell her we'd be stopping to talk with her."_

"I vote we pick up Beth and keep going," said Kurt. "It's been a long drive already. Maybe Irene would come visit us another day. Noah, you could make dinner when we get home."

"Sure," said Puck absently. He tapped out a slow reply to Shelby on his phone.

Kurt related their conversation to the boys after he hung up.

"I don't think she'd mind meeting your dad," Finn said. "Not much fazes Irene."

Puck yawned, chuckling. "Does she know about your cousin Katy?"

"Like she'd care about that," said Finn. "I don't think she gives a damn about fame or whatever. Her sister is a big deal singer. I wonder if my mom ever met her. I think her name was Carmen…"

Kurt choked at the sound of her name. "Oh my god. Irene's sister is Carmen  _Tibideaux."_

Finn grinned in surprise. "You know about her?"

"She's only the most influential African-American operatic performer of the twenty-first century." His mind raced. "I wonder if Irene would introduce me."

"Baby, it's not like you've got a shortage of famous musician friends."

"Not like  _Carmen Tibideaux,"_  he said haughtily. "She's been in the business for decades. I bet she has real connections."

Kurt moved into the right lane as the first exit signs came into view for Columbus. Carole followed him off the highway and through town to park in front of a low blue building.

Finn had told him about Irene's coffee house. "Java the Hut" was enough of a stretch that it wasn't infringing on trademark, but Kurt thought the Star Wars font on the sign might be. Regardless, the parking lot was pretty empty on a Tuesday evening.

"That's her car," Puck said, pointing. Both cars pulled up beside the maroon Ford Fiesta.

Shelby opened her door and got out, reaching into the car for Beth's carrier. Puck looked completely awake now, and very excited. He went up to Sarah and took he hand. "Come on, come on. You have to meet her."

Shelby looked a little nervous to be suddenly surrounded by six people. "Hello." She held out a hand to Carole. "You must be Finn's mother. How was the reunion?"

"Carole Hudson," she said. "It was very nice, thank you."

"I'm Shelby Corcoran." She turned to Burt. "Mr. Hummel. It's good to see you again."

"Shelby, this is Sarah, my sister." Puck nudged her forward from where she was standing behind him. She held out a hand to be shaken, too, and Shelby shook it solemnly.

"You're the one who did the house plans," said Shelby, and Sarah nodded.

"There's a room for you," Sarah told her. "For when you come to visit. We can do Passover at our house in the spring."

Shelby smiled for the first time. "I'd like that very much, Sarah." She turned to Puck and held out the carrier. "Her diaper bag is in the trunk. She hasn't been sleeping as well as she did at Tessera, but I hear that's typical for two months old."

"We can deal," said Puck. He leaned over and gave her a hug. She looked a little startled but not upset by the hug, and hugged him back. "I've got time this week if you want me to bring her out to see you."

"Noah, it's your time with her," she said. "You don't have to share her with me. This was our agreement."

"Hey, I don't mind. I'm all about sharing. You said something about an audition?"

She nodded. "Cleveland, on Wednesday. A director I know well, Clayton Pace, is holding open casting for  _RENT._  I can text you the address of the theater if you really think you might want to come out."

Kurt felt a thrill of excitement. "Can we stay and watch the auditions?" he asked.

"I'm sure Clayton wouldn't mind, as long as you weren't making a lot of noise. I suppose it's possible he could object to Beth being there, but knowing Clayton, I doubt it."

He noticed his dad speaking quietly to Carole, after which Carole turned to Shelby again. "It was very good to meet you. You'd be welcome to visit our home any time, before or after the new house is built." She waved before heading at a brisk walk toward the coffee shop.

Kurt looked at his dad questioningly — and maybe a little accusatorially. For whatever reason, his dad held up both hands.

"I just suggested she use the restroom before we get back on the road. That was all."

"Sure," said Kurt. He hugged his dad anyway. "You're a very sweet, cowardly man."

"Hey." Finn laughed. "I don't blame him for not wanting to go in. Irene can be scary. Shelby can tell you."

His dad swiveled his eyes over to Shelby. " _You_  know Irene, too? How?"

Shelby's smile was dry. "You really want to know?"

Kurt gestured for her to go ahead. "There's nothing you can say to him that he probably hasn't already heard from us at least once."

"Well, in my previous incarnation, as Davis Lawton's wife — that would be seventeen years ago — I got plenty of grief from our friends for abandoning him to move to New York City while carrying his lover's child. Never mind that Davis was leagues happier with Carl than he ever could have been with me."

His dad looked amazed. Kurt caught Finn's flinch at the mention of Carl's name, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he shouldered Beth's diaper bag and took it to the Navigator, then helped Puck pass Beth back to the center seat and latched her in.

"This is a little weird," Puck muttered.

"It's all right," Finn said. "You know they were all going to get together eventually. Worlds colliding, all that." He nudged Puck's hand with his knuckles. "Remember what we talked about."

"Yeah." He gave Finn a quick smile. "I think you got through to me."

"I think I did. Doesn't mean we can't try again, any time."

Kurt ducked under Finn's arm and edged around Puck to sit beside the car seat. "Dibs."

Puck looked surprised. "You really want to sit by her? She might not be all that happy to be driving again."

"I can keep her occupied," Kurt promised. He cooed at Beth, watching her face change at the sound of his voice. "See, she knows me. We're going to get along fine."

"You can sit on the other side," Sarah said to Puck. "I don't mind sitting up front."

Puck moved into the seat on the other side of Kurt and Beth. He buckled his seatbelt and watched them, a little smile on his face.

"You and me, we share a name," Kurt told her. "It was my mother's name: Elizabeth. Yes, that's right. You're Beth, and that's my middle name, too. I'm Kurt Elizabeth." He looked over at Puck.  _"Uncle_  Kurt?"

"Baby Bear," Finn said from the front.

"Sarah, hit him for me, would you?" Kurt said lovingly, still smiling at Beth. She obliged, to Finn's protests.

"You can call yourself whatever you want," said Puck, his face red. "I've got dibs on  _Papa._  And, um. Adam's got a name for himself."

"Oh really. I'll be asking him about that." Kurt considered his options for a moment. "I think not uncle. But maybe something special, something no one else would pick.  _Not_  Baby Bear."

"You've got time. She's not going to be talking for another year." But Puck looked so pleased that Kurt leaned over and gave him a kiss.

"She'll be your daughter for a long time before she starts talking. I'm looking forward to getting to know her."

"Yeah," said Puck. "Me too."

* * *

If Blaine hadn't been told that outgoing sophomores had to go home over summer vacation, he wasn't sure he would have bothered. That is, if it hadn't been for Finn. Finn was in Lima, and an opportunity to spend the summer in the same town as him was almost too good to believe. At the moment, however, Finn was out of town, and Blaine was feeling both exhausted and more than a little stir-crazy.

It was only the second time he'd even been to his mother's house since transferring to Dalton. Marisol was no longer there; his mother now only had an occasional housekeeper. He left in a hurry once he realized his mother's house was now as empty and lonely as his father's.

Blaine didn't admit to himself he was looking for Paula until he walked through the front door of the library and felt a wave of disappointment to see the unfamiliar woman at the desk. She smiled at him.

"Can I help you?"

"Um — " He laughed, feeling embarrassed. "You know, I think I'll just find a seat and read."

He turned down the third aisle, crouching down to browse his favorite authors, but he wasn't there for more than a minute before he felt a touch on his shoulder. Paula was holding a little stack of books, her eyes dancing.

"I've been holding on to these for you," she said. "I was hoping you'd stop in when you got back to Lima."

He stood and hugged her tightly. "How are the twins?"

"Growing like crazy, and keeping me up most nights. I'm really grateful for Andrew's paternity leave so I can have a few hours a day as an autonomous human being, instead of a milk machine."

Blaine made a face. "I didn't even plan to come here today. I'm just kind of…"

"Bored?" she suggested.

That wasn't the word he would have chosen, but it was less complicated than the truth, so he just went ahead and nodded. She handed him the stack of books.

"Welcome to an antidote for that. Your favorite table by the window is open. But come find me when you're ready to catch up. I want to hear all about Dalton."

It wasn't Dalton that was on Blaine's mind. He wasn't actually sure how he was going to tell Paula about the last five months of his life. It had been, without a doubt, both the most complicated and most simple time in his life. Just closing his eyes and thinking about Finn made his heart race. Being without him since the last time they'd played at Irene's two weeks ago had been harder than he'd anticipated.

In the meantime, he'd said goodbye to Jeff for the summer. Jeff had become a good friend — once he'd agreed to stop providing Blaine with drugs — but more than that, he'd become part of Blaine's support system. Other than Finn, Jeff was the only other person he could talk to about what Finn did for him. On occasion, Jeff even provided it for him in Finn's place.

But now that he was back in Lima, and Finn was out of town, there was no one to watch out for him but himself. He'd grown so accustomed to leaning on Finn and Jeff that to be left alone with his needs for a couple weeks felt like an impossible burden.

 _I'm just a mess of contradictions,_  he thought, slouching in the padded chair and staring out the window.

He had finally settled down and was thirty pages into the newest Mercedes Lackey when his phone buzzed. It was a text — from Finn. He dropped the book.

 _Reunion went fine,_  it read.  _Thought of you when I heard this song. I know you like Katy Perry. Talk to you soon._

The attached file was an MP3, labeled simply TEENAGE_DREAM. He deliberated over whether or not he should respond to Finn's text first or listen to the file, but he was too curious to wait. He plugged in his earphones and pressed play.

The track was Katy Perry, all right, although she sounded more mellow than she did on most of her studio recordings. She hadn't recorded this in a studio. It was a song Blaine hadn't heard before, just her and a guitar and some guy singing backing vocals. But it was catchy, and after two listenings, he found himself humming it to himself while he replied to Finn.

 _It's great, thank you for thinking of me! I hope your reunion was fun._  He bit his lip, began to type  _I miss,_  then deleted that and settled instead on  _See you soon._

When he returned to the lobby, Paula was setting up a display about the Lima Community Theater production of  _Free to Be You and Me,_  along with copies of the original and the new edition of the book.

"Are you going to audition, Blaine?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Last summer I went to work at Six Flags in Chicago, performing there, but I, um, decided I didn't want to be that far away from home this year." He couldn't say  _that far away from Finn,_ but that was the truth of it. "So, anyway, there are a couple community theater productions within a few hours of Lima, and I'm going to try out for all of them until I get into one. Next audition is RENT, in Cleveland. I'm really hoping to get a chorus part in that, even if it would be a long commute."

"If you do get in, will you let me know when the performance is?" she asked. "I'd love to see you on stage. Same thing with the Warblers performances next year — especially with you being their lead soloist!"

That was still a little unbelievable to Blaine. He couldn't make the connection between Blaine the boy choir member and Blaine the rock star, but that was how people treated the Warblers at Dalton. And as uncomfortable as it made him to have everybody staring at him, there were things about it he loved, too. "Sure. I can do that."

Paula nodded in satisfaction. "So are you going to tell me about your guy?"

He stopped, watching her warily. "What makes you think I have a —"

"Oh, Blaine." She was smiling. "What's he like? Did you meet him at Dalton?"

"No, no, he's… he's actually local. I mean, there isn't a guy, not really." He sighed. "He's a — a friend."

"Mmmm." Paula was definitely teasing him now. "But you wish he were more than a friend?"

Blaine really had no idea what to say to that. "I don't know. He's — he has somebody already."

That wasn't exactly fair, since Paula didn't know about Finn's multiple guys or how that was okay with him, or them, or anything. Not that there was anything. He put on a sunny Blaine smile. "It's fine. He's great, but I'm not in love with him or anything."

She gave a quiet snort. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. And since when do you pull a Perfect Blaine face on me, huh?"

"A - a what?" he blurted.

"The face. The blank,  _I'm fine, don't look too close at me_  face. The one that goes with the hair."

He reached up and touched his gelled curls reflexively. "I - yeah. I'm sorry. I forget that I don't have to do that here. Like at the coffeehouse in Columbus. I get to be somebody else, there. I don't do anything to my hair, when I'm being Patrick."

"You've always just been Blaine with me, kiddo. So spill it. Tell me about your boy." Paula nudged him with her shoulder and sing-songed lightly under her breath, "Blaine's got a boyfriend."

Blaine felt his face go crimson. "Oh my god, Paula! Stoooop!"

"You don't have to be in love with him for him to be your boyfriend." She put a friendly arm around him and gave him a little squeeze. "But it's obvious. You're different."

"I  _feel_  different," he said. "He—he makes me real, you know? Like, the person I am at Dalton isn't really me, and the person I am in Columbus isn't really me, but... I think he likes the sum of all of those people. The real me. And I'm not sure how I fit here, now. The Lima me."

Paula nodded. She wasn't teasing anymore. "I'm not going to try to give you too much advice, because I think you're doing just fine. But that's what college is about for a lot of people. Trying to figure out who you are and how you fit into the world. You're just doing it a little earlier."

Blaine nodded. "That makes sense. I know it's not a race, I just wish sometimes the answers were more clear than they are right now." He grimaced. "In the meantime, I'm dealing with living with my mother again, and  _she's_  never home, and… it's just hard."

"I'm sorry, honey." Paula wrapped him in a hug. "I'll be here every afternoon all summer, so you're always welcome to escape."

Blaine let his gaze drift over to the nook where he and Dave used to sit and read. "Have you—" he started to ask, and then shook his head. He didn't really want to know.

Paula answered him anyway. "I haven't seen Dave in months," she said. "He came a couple of times in the fall, but I haven't seen him since before Christmas."

"I hope he's okay," Blaine said, leaving the rest of his thoughts about Dave in his head.  _I miss him. I wonder if he's still afraid of who he is._ _Will I ever see my Davey again?_

"He'll come back when he's ready," Paula reassured him, as if she could read his mind. After all these years of giving him the perfect book, maybe she could.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The B story is all about Will and Toby, just FYI. 
> 
> If you've read Dance on a Narrow Ledge, you've already met Darius. He also appears in the Carole backstory as a 12-year-old. Our inspiration for Darius is [Jensen Atwood](http://i359.photobucket.com/albums/oo38/100pcntpuresyn/Jenson.jpg). 
> 
> The RENT connection is pervasive throughout, both symbolically and plot-wise. 
> 
> -amy

 

Will yawned and stretched, and blinked his eyes. The bedroom was dark, and the bed was empty next to him, but Annie was curled at his feet. She lifted her head when he moved, and he paused to scratch between her ears, smiling at her adoring face.

"Where's your dad, girl?" he whispered, and shivered in the cool of the bedroom.  _Toby and his damn open windows._

Annie just yawned herself, crept half to her feet, turned twice in a circle, and plunked herself back down in the mess of blankets at the foot of the bed. Will snagged his discarded boxers with his foot and tugged them back on before moving carefully down the hall and down the stairs.

He followed the light and Toby's soft humming through the living room and into the kitchen, to where Toby was sitting at the table, a glass of milk and the tray of "now you're both out" cookies Shelby had sent over. He was scrolling through web pages on his laptop.

"Couldn't sleep, huh?" He took a glass out of the cabinet over the sink, poured his own milk and plucked a chocolate chip cookie off the plate. "I thought maybe I'd actually worn you out for once."

"You made a valiant effort, darlin'," Toby said with a twirl of his pen. "But you should know by now that it's kind of pointless. I still can't sleep until late."

Will leaned over and indicated Toby's screen. "What'cha got there? If it's porn, it's the most boring porn I've ever seen."

"Auditions." Toby kept his eyes down, and Will could see him scanning the lines of text for something.

"For what?"

"For anything within a two hundred mile radius of here." Toby set his pen down and fixed his gaze on Will. "I've never  _not_  done a show in the summer. I miss it."

Will nodded, taking a seat next to him at the table. He peered at the screen over Toby's shoulder, trying not to feel too excited.  _We haven't done a show together since B-W,_  he could have said. Or,  _Yeah, I'm disappointed that thing with_ Les Miserables _didn't pan out._  Instead, he just watched Toby reading, and held his breath.

Toby scrolled through the page, his eyes moving fast. "It's been a long time since you've done a show, hasn't it? And I'm not counting that clusterfuck of  _Les Miz_ , because, well."

Will shrugged, trying to be casual. "I guess."

Toby's breath hitched, and his eyes crinkled into a smile. "I know you're teaching summer school history, but  _this_!" He jabbed his finger at the screen and shoved it over so Will could see. "We should do it together. Cleveland's not  _too_ far from here. And Shelby said Clayton Pace is the director to work for."

Will focused on the words on the screen. His eyes widened. "Toby - you want to do  _RENT?_ Isn't that for younger actors?"

"There's a modified version for high schools, but the content is very adult, and we're plenty young enough to play in it." Toby propped his chin in his hands. "I'm going to try out with or without you."

"Baby..." Will reached out and captured Toby's hand from under his chin, holding it tight. "Even if I don't audition, you know I'll be right there, supporting you. You need this."

Toby appraised him coolly. "So do you. At least think about it?"

Toby was so fearless. He wasn't afraid to go for what he wanted; he never had been. Will found himself grinning stupidly at his fiancé, unable to think anything other than  _God, I love you._  Eventually Toby cleared his throat, and Will blinked, laughing nervously. "Uh... yes. I mean, of course, I will."

"Good." Toby stood, offered his hand to Will. "Now. There's an empty bed waiting for us upstairs, and I'm still wide awake."

* * *

Toby hummed a few lines of melody under his breath and patted Will's hand in an attempt to calm him down. "Don't blow a gasket before we get in the door, darlin'. You're going to be fine."

"I'm not nervous," Will said, his thigh bouncing as he glanced at the line of people outside the theater, each of them holding manuscripts and dressed for dancing. "I'm just excited."

Toby grinned. "I knew you'd come around. Are you still planning to read for Mark?"

"He's the most interesting character," Will said. "Well, except Collins, but there's no way they'd cast me in that part, even if I had the right kind of voice."

"There's a lot of offhand humor in Mark, though. He's a snarky bastard, darlin'. Do you think you're up for that?" Toby held the door and let Will slip ahead of him into the air-conditioned lobby.

Will shot Toby a hurt glance. "Hey. You don't think I'm funny?"

"It's not that you're  _not_  funny," Toby started, trying to dig himself out of the hole he was in before he said something really bad. He accepted the form the PA slid to him across the table and began filling in his information.

"Because I can read circles around Mark." Will brandished the chapbook of the  _RENT_ script like it was the skull from  _Hamlet._

"I know you can. But sometimes it's not about the reading. Sometimes it's about what  _else_  you can bring to the part." He shrugged. "I just don't know if Mark is the  _best_  choice for you."

"Says the man who is a shoe-in for Angel if there ever was one," Will grumbled as they joined the line of waiting actors.

Toby curtsied and gave Will's cheek a kiss. "Are you  _implying_  something about the way I choose to express my sexuality, darlin'?"

"I don't need to imply anything,  _darlin'._ You take care of that just fine on your own."

"God, you two are enough to make me want to spit up," they heard behind them. Will spun, surprised, but Toby just sighed and grinned.

"Hi, Shelby," he said. "I should've known I'd see you here."

"I can't pass up a production of  _RENT._  Even with Beth. Maybe especially with her - my brain needs a break. Not to mention I'd probably get more sleep rehearsing than I do at home. Noah will have her most of the time, anyway." Shelby swept her hair back from her face and fastened it in a scrunchy. "What are  _you_  doing here, Will?"

"Uh," he said, glancing at Toby for support, but Toby was just watching him expectantly. "Well, I was thinking of auditioning for Mark."

"No, no," she said briskly. "Forget it. He's all wrong for you." She squinted at him. "Toby - can he handle angst?"

"Let's put it this way," Toby said, with a barely controlled smirk. "He could rival a 16 year old girl."

"Hm." Shelby tilted her head and stared for another moment before nodding. "Roger," she patted Will's shoulder. "Read for Roger."

Will waved the script in the air. "What about singing? I'd prepped  _Tango Maureen_."

Shelby shook her head. "Oh, honey. Too shrill for you." She clucked her tongue. "What were you thinking?" She looked at Will, but directed her voice at Toby. "You know better, Tobias. I might think you don't want your boyfriend in this show with you, behaving like that!"

"You think I have  _any_  control over this man, Shelby?" he drawled. "Take a look at that vest. Would I have dressed him in that if I had my way? Nooooo."

"Uh,  _hello,"_  Will said, waving his hands in their faces. "I'm standing right here. And I  _still_  don't have a song to sing."

Toby glanced at Shelby, and together they nodded.

" _I Should Tell You_ ," they said in unison.

"But — that's a  _duet_."

Toby couldn't help it; he laughed outright at Will's indignation before turning to Shelby.

"I told you, Shel. Angsty like a teenage girl."

A flurry of movement and excited voices burst through one of the side doors, and they heard a familiar baritone call, "Shelby, she's  _smiling_  at Kurt, seriously - oh, hi... Mr. Schue." Puck blinked in surprise as he came to a halt in front of them. He was followed by a breathless Kurt. Puck was holding a wrapped bundle to his chest with one hand and a stuffed frog rattle in the other. "Did we know you were going to be auditioning for this? Anyway. Check this out." He thrust the bundle at Shelby, revealing a chubby baby face under the swaddling.

"Oh, Puck," said Will, grinning at him. "She's gotten so big."

"Yeah, babies do that." Puck shook the rattle and got her attention. "Do it again, " he said to Kurt.

Kurt looked a little put on the spot, but he grinned nervously at Toby and sang, "The itsy-bitsy spider went up the water spout..."

"See? See? She did it again!" Puck's own smile went from ear to ear. "I told you. She's a genius."

"I'm completely convinced," Shelby said in a bored tone, but Will could see the pleasure in her eyes. "You'd better feed her before the auditions start, Noah. We don't want that siren going off when everyone's singing and dancing. Better to get her to sleep now."

"Gotcha," said Puck, clutching Beth back to his chest. "Bottle's already warming in the green room. Be right back."

"Nice to see you, Kurt," Toby said with a smile, touching his arm. "How's your summer going?"

"Fine," Kurt said. He looked far more relaxed and happy than Will thought he had at the end of the school year. "We had a good time at Finn's family reunion."

"You auditioning?" Shelby asked Kurt.

Kurt's laugh was surprised. "No," he said. "I mean - I wasn't... I didn't think about it. I'm just here with Noah to help with Beth."

"How am I supposed to sing a duet by myself?" Will sighed. "Shelby, do you know that part? Mimi?"

Shelby shook her head. "I'm auditioning for Maureen."

Will turned imploring eyes on Toby, who gave him jazz hands. "No. Don't even think about it. Angel. That's it." He nodded at Kurt. "But Kurt knows it. He knows all the parts."

Will glanced at Kurt, startled. "Do you know Mimi's part, Kurt?"

Kurt looked startled, but he nodded slowly, flushing pink to the tips of his ears. " _RENT_ is one of my favorites. But I  _can't…_  I mean, they would never let me. Would they?"

Shelby leaned into him slowly, almost as if she were afraid he'd spook if she got too close too fast. "Let me hear you. I'll start?" She waited for him to breathe and nod before beginning.

[ _http://youtu.be/majeyBAFLGI_ ](http://youtu.be/majeyBAFLGI)

_I should tell you, I'm disaster  
_ _I forget how to begin it_

Kurt's voice was soft, but full when he picked up the second part.

_Let's just make this part go faster_  
 _I have yet to be in it  
_ _I should tell you-_

His confidence grew as he continued to sing, and both he and Shelby let their voices fill the auditorium, as though they were already on stage. Several other prospective cast members turned in line to listen, wearing appreciative smiles.

"Is he your kid?" someone asked Will, who wrinkled his brow in response.

"Uh, no," he said. Then he smiled. "But I'm his teacher. Isn't he great?"

He nudged over to Shelby who showed him where they were in his score, and he picked up Roger's part, singing unison with her for a few lines until he took it over. Then he realized he was singing with Kurt; he stammered a little, which fit perfectly well with the part:

_Well, here we go, now we, oh no_  
 _I know this something is here goes_  
 _Here goes, guess so it's starting to_  
 _Who knows? Who knows?_  
 _Who knows where? Who goes there?  
_ _Who knows? Here goes_

_Trusting desire, starting to learn_  
 _Walking through fire without a burn_  
 _Clinging a shoulder a leap begins  
_ _Stinging and older, asleep on pins_

Kurt was letting his instincts take him into the part, and Will, surprised, responded as best as he could. It was indicative of Kurt's talent that Will didn't feel anxious about singing a love song with a boy almost young enough to be his son - because he was  _Roger_ singing with  _Mimi,_  and that was all.

_So here we go, now we, oh no_  
 _I know, oh no_  
 _Who knows where? Who goes there?_  
 _Here goes, here goes_  
 _Here goes, here goes  
_ _Here goes, here goes_

Will's gaze was suddenly interrupted by a bristling, scowling Puck, improbably still carrying the swaddled baby in a football hold.

"Dude," he said, sounding pissed.

"We were  _acting,_  Noah," Kurt soothed, with an arm on his bicep. "It's okay. Mr. Schue didn't mean anything by it."

"Puck," Will said, turning scarlet, but Puck was already hustling Kurt away from the line, glaring over his shoulder at him.

"Since when are you so monogamous?" they heard Kurt asking, and Toby let out one stifled whoop of laughter before burying his face in Will's shoulder.

"He's my  _student,"_ Will said, through gritted teeth. "Jesus."

"Where do you teach?" came a deep voice from somewhere behind them in line.

Will startled, and peeked up the line around three young women to see a tall, brown-skinned man waggling his fingers at him. Will smiled. "McKinley High, in Lima," he said pointing to himself, and then waved his hand at Shelby and Toby. "These two teach at Carmel, over in Akron."

The man nodded, and stretched around the women, holding out his hand to Will. "Darius Mitchell." He let the women go around him and came back to stand beside Will.

"Will Schuester." He had to shrug off the weight of Toby's arms around him to shake hands. He tilted his head towards Toby. "My fiancé, Toby Grey. And the lovely lady is Shelby Corcoran."

Will could sense Toby running his eyes appraisingly over Darius, taking in his braided black hair and friendly, cocoa-colored eyes.

"It's a pleasure," Darius rumbled, teeth flashing white in his dark face.

"Yes," Toby said, watching Darius watching Will.

"Let me guess," Shelby said, placing a hand on Darius' arm. "You're auditioning for... hmmm, let me think..."

"Collins; I admit it, I'm living up to the stereotype," Darius said, throwing his hands up. "But seriously, how many leading roles are there for gay black men?"

Toby nodded knowingly against Will's side. "Gay men at all, really. But you're right, you have a double disadvantage when it comes to conventional casting."

"I got lucky last year," he said. "Worked with a touring company of  _Once On This Island_ , playing Papa Ge. But now that the tour is done, it's back to waiting tables and answering phones." His eyes twinkled at Will, and before he realized it, Will was smiling back. "Cleveland's as good a place as any for summer theater."

"Do you really think so?" Will turned at the movement next to their little crowd, and was almost startled to see Kurt again, out of breath, skittering to a stop before he plowed into them. "Because I thought Chicago was the place to be for regional theater."

Darius smiled gently at Kurt. "I said  _summer_  theater, not regional. There's a difference, yes, but any Clayton Pace production is bound to better than most."

Will almost didn't hear Kurt's mutterings, which were clearly directed nowhere but at himself. "Better than Lima, that's for sure."

"Sounds like you need this even more than I do," Darius said, as the line shuffled forward. "And so it begins. What part are you reading for?"

Kurt waved a startled hand. "I'm not. Or, I hadn't planned on it. I'm just here with my…" His hand shifted to include the direction in which Puck had gone. Will, Toby and Darius exchanged a look.

"Your boyfriend?" Toby said. Kurt coughed.

"Fine," said Kurt. "Close enough. Yes. I'm here with my  _boyfriend_."

"No," said Shelby. She placed her copy of the score in his hand, along with an audition form and a pencil. "No, you're definitely auditioning. That was some inspired singing. Though I doubt Clayton would be so avant-garde as to cast you as Mimi."

Kurt's eyes were doubtful. "Why would they cast me as  _anything_? This is professional theater, and I'm only seventeen!"

Toby reached out and settled Kurt with a hand on his forearm. "Darlin', I wasn't much older than you when I got my first lead. Age has nothin' to do with it. This is your chance to get some experience in the casting process." Will watched Toby hold Kurt's gaze, firm but gentle. "You're good, Kurt. You'll never know what you can do until you try."

Kurt listened, but looked like he was about to argue with Toby until Will said quietly, "He's right, Kurt. You deserve a chance here."

Will barely had the chance to blink before Kurt snatched the papers out of Shelby's hand and looked haughtily at the adults. "Anyone have a pen?"

* * *

Will stretched out his legs and threw them over the seat in front of him, watching the throng on the stage with a morose expression.

"They're  _all_  really good," he sighed. "I don't know why I'm bothering."

"Hey, I heard you sing," Darius said, settling himself into the seat next to Will. "You're really good, too." He pointed at the stage. "I know those guys. Been in shows with a few of them. They're the same old same old. The directors might be looking for something fresh."

Will frowned at the row of actors. "The last show I auditioned for… didn't go well."

"No shame in not making the cut." Darius flexed his hands and relaxed onto the armrest next to Will, nudging his arm.

Will laughed. "Actually, I got the lead. Jean Valjean."

"Nice," Darius said, raising his eyebrows. " _Les Mis_  is a great show. So what was the problem?"

"There was a guy..." Will began, then paused, noticing Darius' knowing smirk. "Nothing like that," he protested.

"Sure," Darius nodded. "Go on."

"It was just, this guy, we used to go to high school together. He wanted the part, and he's on the school board... he was going to cut funding for the arts unless I gave it to him." He grimaced. "Just left a bad taste in my mouth."

Darius stared at him. "That's appalling."

"That's small town politics for you," Will said. Then his lip twitched. "He was pretty hot, though."

"Ah, the truth comes out," Darius smiled. "But you and Toby... he said fiancé, right?"

"Since December. It's... still very new. I was married before."

"Mmmm." Will felt a little exposed as Darius looked him up and down.  _If I didn't know better,_ he thought,  _I'd say I was being cruised._

"To a woman," Will added.

"Really." Darius' voice was rich and smooth, like coffee ice cream. "Forgive me if I say I have a hard time believing that."

"Yeah? Why's that?" Will was curious despite his unease, and he met Darius's eyes, keeping his gaze steady. Darius's grin slowly widened, but he said nothing for several long moments.

"Well," he said at last. "My gaydar's pretty right-on, most of the time. I'd say at least nine out of ten times, I can tell... what a man likes."

"Oh," Will said. He realized he was staring at Darius's smile, so brilliant in his dark face, and he looked away. "It's... kind of a long story."

"I bet you can tell it in five sentences or less," he said. "If you try."

Will gathered his thoughts, trying to summarize the last fifteen years in one tiny paragraph. "Toby and I, we met at music camp when we were nine, and there was an... immediate connection. Every summer, after that, we were pretty much inseparable - except I was straight, and everybody at home thought so, too, especially the girls I was dating."

"I wonder," Darius interrupted. "You might want to go back and ask some of them if they had any suspicions. Just a thought." He gestured grandly. "Please, do continue."

"Hmm," Will said, frowning at him. "Well... cut to senior year: Toby pushes, I push back, he pushes harder, I call him some unfortunate names..."

Darius winced. "Ouch."

"Yeah," Will said grimly. "That was pretty much it for our friendship, for about a year. Then we went to college together, and one weekend, when I was supposed to be visiting my girlfriend at Ohio State, we kind of…" He let his voice trail off, and chuckled nervously.

"No shit?" Darius looked almost impressed. "I bet she didn't like that much."

"She never found out. Well, not in so many words. I think she always knew, on some level. She and I got married a few years later. That split me and Toby up again for three years... "

He must have gone off into his own world for a few minutes, because it was Darius' warm hand on his that startled him back to awareness, and his quiet words, "Sounds like an epic romance."

"Epic," Will agreed. "Looking back on it, I'm kind of embarrassed about how awful I was to Toby for so long."

"When you fall in love that young, you're bound to mess up," Darius said. "Don't beat yourself up over it. We all make some mistakes." He laughed. "I still make them every day."

"I'm glad I'm not the only one," Will said, smiling.

They watched Shelby stride to the center of the stage and command everybody's attention with her confident, focused presence. She filled the room with her strong voice, singing one of Maureen's numbers.

"Well,  _she's_ got it in the bag," Darius murmured.

Will grinned.  _I'm watching Rachel in twenty years._  "It's like the role was written for her."

Toby was next, and Will sat forward in his seat, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"He's got something up his sleeve," he said, pointing. "I can tell. Look at that smirk."

Toby brought out a Santa hat, pulling it down over his short-clipped hair, and stood, posed, on the audition line.

"Toby Grey," he announced, with a flamboyant bow. "Auditioning for Angel."

He didn't stay on the line for long. As the music for "Today 4 U" began, he snapped into motion, rolling through a series of complicated dance steps made effortless by his flawless technique and superb athleticism. Darius let out a wolf whistle.

"He's a hell of a dancer," he said, sounding surprised.

"It's his life," said Will.

Darius looked at him askance. "Maybe part of it," he said. "Definitely not all of it."

They watched Toby tear up the stage, drawing applause from most of the waiting actors. "We should get up there," Will said. "I'm on in a few, and I guess you're after me?"

"Looks like." Will started as Darius's hand clasped his, firm and quick, before letting go. "Break a leg." His gaze took somewhat longer to leave Will's face. "I hope you get the part. It'd be nice working with you."

"You're that confident you'll get Collins?" Will said, unable to avoid his eyes.

"You haven't heard me sing," Darius said. "You'd bet on me, too, if you had."

Then his gaze was diverted by something beyond Will, and Will turned to see Puck standing there, uncomfortably fiddling with Beth's blanket.

"Mr. Schue," he said, looking somewhat less fierce and more desperate than he had a half hour before. "I... you can't sing that song with Kurt." He sighed in frustration. "You just  _can't."_

"Okay," Will said, putting a calming hand on Puck shoulder. "It's okay. I won't, if it bothers you that much."

"It's not you," he tried to explain. "You're not - I mean, I don't care that you and -" He shook his head. "It's... Kurt played that movie for us, right? I mean, it's one of the only musicals he likes that I can sit through, so we watch it a lot. And  _we..._ "He shot a pleading look at Will. "He and Finn, they sing that one. It's  _theirs."_

"I got it," said Will. "It's fine, Puck; I can just sing a different song."

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," he said, patting Beth's back. It seemed to be calming him down, too. They watched him walk away with bemusement.

"Finn?" Darius said.

"It's complicated," Will replied absently. " _Now_  what am I going to sing?"

"For Roger?" Darius flipped through his score to a song and thrust it at Will. "Easy. One Song Glory."

"I really don't know this musical very well," Will admitted. Darius sighed.

"Come on. There's a piano in the green room. We can get through this at least once before you have to go on." He beckoned, and Will followed, wondering if auditioning for a part he barely knew was a stupid idea.  _Trusting Shelby and Toby… it's a tough call._

Darius set the score on the ledge on the beat-up practice piano in the green room and sat on the bench, cracking his big knuckles. "Let's see what you've got," he said, playing the opening chords.

"What's my motivation, director?" Will said, grinning, feeling far less nervous than he figured he should, given the situation.

"It's an angsty white boy song," Darius said, with a dismissive flip of his fingers. "Just - oh, I don't know... remember what it was like when you and Toby were on the outs. Channel that, and you'll be golden."

_That, I can do,_  Will thought. He remembered with startling clarity those three first years of marriage to Terri, when he and Toby weren't even speaking to one another. They were years that should have been the happiest of his life, but instead had been nightmares of confusion and desperate loneliness. He opened his mouth and read the music, letting the hurt he'd felt come forth in his voice as he sang.

<http://youtu.be/234NTB5rxV0>

_Find glory_  
 _Beyond the cheap colored lights_  
 _One song_  
 _Before the sun sets_  
 _Glory - on another empty life_  
 _Time flies - time dies  
_ _Glory - One blaze of glory_

It'd been a long time since Will had sung like this, and it felt like a release, a cathartic expression of the dramatic changes in his own life.

_Less than a month ago, I said the words "I'm gay" to Toby, and believed them,_  he thought.  _It was the end, in so many ways - and the beginning._

As the last note rang out, Will opened clenched eyes wide to a smattering of enthusiastic applause from an assortment of actors who'd stopped to listen. Darius was nodding approvingly up at Will, his smile broad.

"That was perfect," he said, and closed the score with a definitive snap. "You're Roger."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kurt meets Blaine, at last!

Kurt fidgeted nervously in his seat, acutely aware of Puck in the back corner of the auditorium, pacing and no doubt singing softly into Beth's ear. He tried to still his jiggling leg, but to no avail. He had spent the last two hours watching all of these insanely talented people, Mr. Schue, Shelby, and Toby included, take the stage with the kind of confidence and ability Kurt only dreamed about having. This wasn't Glee club, or a competition against other teenagers at Regionals, or even a Lima production of  _Free To Be You and Me._  This was  _real_  theater. There was no way to not be nervous about this.

He rolled the score Shelby had given him up in his hands, and tried to settle himself by singing lightly under his breath along with the woman who was currently on stage, singing a very unfortunate version of "Out Tonight", complete with what Kurt thought might be a pole dance. He wasn't fully aware of another body in his space until a low voice murmured from his left side.

"Did she think that actually  _being_  Mimi would help? Because she's been misinformed."

Kurt laughed and turned to look right at a boy his own age, with incredibly curly dark hair and luminous hazel eyes.

"Hi," he said, tilting his head and staring an instant too long because he felt like he should know this boy, if he didn't already. "Do I know you?"

"I don't think… Maybe. Maybe you do." The boy stuck out his hand. "I'm Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

Kurt smiled and shook, and didn't want to let go because Blaine's hand was warm and reassuring in the best kind of way. "Kurt Hummel."

"Oh!" Kurt felt Blaine take a deep breath. "Santana's friend."

"You're — wait." Kurt blinked, because he knew, then. This was the friend Santana was always talking about, who went to Dalton. Whom Kurt had heard sing Lloyd Webber's Pie Jesu, back in middle school. He sat in silence for a moment, trying to think about what to say to this boy. He'd always thought of Blaine as some kind of untouchable creature, often talked about but rarely seen. Finally he just settled on, "It's good to meet you."

"What are you going to sing?" Blaine leaned his shoulder against the back of his seat so that they could talk quietly without interrupting the people onstage.

"Seasons of Love," Kurt said. "You?"

"Mm. Halloween." Blaine held up his hands. "No, I'm not actually trying out for Mark. I just really like the song. I want a swing part. It would beat another summer at Six Flags."

"I wasn't even planning to try out, but my choir director is here and his friends talked me into it."

Kurt didn't miss the way the Blaine's eyes lit up at the word  _choir._ "You sing with Santana in New Directions, right?"

Kurt felt a little put off, because Blaine knew so much about him, but he knew next to nothing about Blaine, other than that he and Santana had been friends since elementary school. "Yeah. I remember seeing you perform in middle school, when you and Santana sang that duet, before your voice changed. Do you still sing?"

Blaine nodded. "I'm going to be the Warbler's lead soloist this year," he said. "I also sing in Columbus, with the Boy Choir."

Kurt felt inexplicably jealous. He'd wanted to try out for Boy Choir ages and ages ago, but the logistics of getting down to Columbus were too much for his dad, so he'd never pushed the issue.

And then Blaine turned his head to the back of the auditorium — and gasped. When Kurt looked at him, Blaine's face had gone pale except for two spots of pink high on his cheeks. His breathing was suddenly shallow, and his hand was shaking on the back of Kurt's seat.

"Are you okay?" Kurt rested his hand on Blaine's arm, and then turned to follow Blaine's gaze to where Puck was standing, just inside the doors, bouncing Beth and singing into her ear.

"Oh my god." Something in Blaine's voice sounded terrified, and Kurt watched in consternation as Blaine stumbled back a few steps, then turned and ran for the side exit.

"Blaine!" he called. Puck looked up at Kurt's anxious voice and met his eyes across the auditorium. Kurt just shook his head, giving him a calming gesture with his hand, and followed Blaine out the door. An inkling was beginning to form, just a tiny cold spot in his gut, and he had to - he  _had_  to know if he was right.

Kurt found Blaine leaning against the brick wall of the dim hallway, one hand clutching at his chest like he'd just received a blow.

"Blaine?" he said softly, as gently as he could, given what he was feeling, himself. "Do you know that boy? The one with the baby?"

"I think... I think I might," Blaine whispered, staring at his shoes. "It was just once, months ago. And I was... well, it was late." He shook his head with a grimace. "I'm probably just making it up."

Kurt looked at him with new eyes, now: through the lens of Puck's dreams. So many mornings Puck had woken up and related them in awed, anguished whispers, desperately yearning for someone he'd only seen once. Puck's dream memories had been very clear about certain details: hair, eyes, lips. Oh, yes... Kurt knew exactly who Blaine was.

He lifted one hand and, without thinking, touched Blaine's hair.

Blaine shuddered under his touch, and within moments he was crumbling, tears dripping from his eyes onto the carpet of the theater lobby.

"Okay," Kurt murmured, continuing the soothing motion of his hand over Blaine's curls, down his neck and over the bumpy contours of his spine. "You're okay... I've got you."

He listened to the rasp of Blaine's breath, felt the motion of his back as it heaved with uneven sobs. It didn't seem to matter that they'd never met before today. Blaine was accepting his care as though he'd done it all his life, and Kurt couldn't have stopped himself from offering it, not for anything.

"You saw him at Masque," said Kurt. Blaine stared at him, eyes wide in shock.

"How did you know?"

"You didn't make it up. Noah was there, at Masque, with you. He told me all about it."

"H-he did?" Blaine's voice was so full of hope, of longing.

"Yes," Kurt replied, holding Blaine tightly. "That's a big part of our relationship, the honesty."

He felt Blaine nod. "He's your boyfriend."

"Yes," Kurt said, preparing himself for a fresh round of despair from Blaine, only it didn't come.

"Were you then, in December? Boyfriends?" he asked, swiping the tears off his cheeks.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said, softly. "I didn't know."

Kurt shrugged. "It wasn't your responsibility to know. Noah and I talked about it, and I took care of it. It's done, now. We've both let that part of it go." Funny how something that had hurt so much barely half a year ago felt like an ancient memory now. They hadn't even known Adam then.

Blaine ran his thumb over the inside of his wrist. Kurt pretended not to notice the faint blush that rose high on his cheeks.

"It's good, when things get taken care of," he said quietly.

Kurt blinked. A dozen questions flooded his brain, because he hadn't expected this boy to be in the scene — and yet everything about him screamed  _submissive._

"Do you . . . have someone, who takes care of things for you?" It was the easiest thing to ask, and the least likely to get the wrong kind of attention from others in such a public place.

The blush got brighter. "Yes," Blaine said in a whisper. He glanced at Kurt from under ridiculously long lashes. "You understand that, too?"

"I do. I have someone who does that for me, and I do that for Noah."

Blaine nodded immediately. "Yeah. I'm not surprised."

"What, that I take care of him, or that someone else does for me?"

"Either, I suppose. But the way you just helped me, I kind of assumed. My . . . um. My friend?"

"Your Top."

"Yeah. Him." He looked somewhat relieved to hear Kurt say the word. "You do that for Noah?"

"Me, and a few others." Kurt watched the longing emerge, to be quickly tamped down. "We all take care of one another."

"That sounds nice," Blaine said. He was still obviously shaken, but whatever measures of calm he could employ seemed to be working.

A door creaked open down the hall. Puck paused in the doorway, not even looking at them. He looked ridiculous, peering around with Beth's head tucked under his chin, the rest of her encased in the baby carrier against his chest.

"Dude, Kurt. Toby says you're gonna miss your chance to audition if you don't get your ass in here."

"On my way," Kurt said, pushing himself up off the floor. He held his hand out, and when Blaine took it he pulled, hauling him up, too.

They followed Puck back into the auditorium, but he was so occupied bouncing and shushing Beth that he didn't even notice Blaine. Kurt supposed it was just as well. He didn't need to manage another freakout, at least not at that particular moment.

* * *

It was mid-morning before all of the actors auditioning for leads had been seen by the director. Kurt kept glancing back to where Mr. Schue, Toby, Shelby and the black man who had been in line with them were seated with Puck, waiting for him. There were only a handful of people left, performers Kurt assumed were like him, looking for a foot in the door or something interesting to do with their summers.

Backstage, waiting for their names to be called, Blaine couldn't stop pacing. He was making Kurt anxious by default. When he passed by Kurt again, leaning against the brick wall, letting the cool seep through his shirt, Kurt reached out a hand and grabbed at Blaine's wrist.

"Stop," he said, soft but firm.

Blaine stopped and stared at him. "What?" he asked.

Kurt had to chuckle. "You don't even realize you're doing it, do you? Pacing? You're driving me crazy."

"Sorry." Blaine looked immediately ashamed. "I'm such a freak. I do this. I get antsy."

"Here." Kurt reached out his other hand, taking both of Blaine's in both of his. "I could use a little zen myself. Breathe."

He took an exaggerated deep breath and waited for Blaine to copy him. Blaine did so, closing his eyes. They were standing so close together, Kurt could feel Blaine's breath on his skin.

"Good," Kurt said, and Blaine smiled. "Again."

This time Blaine let his shoulders drop, and as he exhaled, he made a little sigh of contentment. Kurt resisted grinning. He didn't want Blaine to think he was laughing at him.

Then Blaine opened his eyes, looking into Kurt's, and Kurt had to catch his own breath. The degree of trust in Blaine's eyes was staggering - not to mention how stunningly beautiful they were.

"Better," Kurt managed, looking away. It wouldn't do for him to be caught staring.

Blaine nodded. "Better. Thank you."

"Good. You'll do fine. Just be yourself. That's the most important thing."

"Uh huh." Kurt was interrupted by the director, calling Blaine to the stage.

"We must be working alphabetically," Blaine said with a roll of his eyes before turning briskly and striding onto the stage with what Kurt knew was nothing close to borrowed confidence.

As it turned out, Kurt needn't have worried, because Blaine was good.  _Really_  good. He was a natural performer; Kurt was pulled into the haunting melody lilting from Blaine's mouth.

_How could a night so frozen be so scalding hot?  
_ _How can a morning this mild be so raw?_

And yet, as flawless a performer as Blaine was, he was almost too clean, too perfect. Kurt knew  _RENT_ as well as any musical in the world, and he knew that flawless wasn't going to cut it for this show. Even so, he heaped praise on Blaine when he hopped off the stage, face high with color.

"That felt really good," Blaine smiled breathlessly, and Kurt nodded in agreement.

"You nailed the song. You're really talented."

"Thank you."

Blaine stayed with him, patting his arm soothingly through the auditions of Amy Cooper (another unfortunate rendition of "Out Tonight") and Brayden Douglas (a totally rocking solo version of "What You Own") before the director called his name.

Kurt didn't stride onstage, per se, but he moved with as much confidence as he could muster. This was more nerve-wracking than singing with Gaga. His only real stage experiences had been with Glee. He'd never even had a solo. The stage felt massive, and the director and other casting people seemed so far away.

"What will you be singing, Kurt?" The director's voice bellowed from the darkness, and Kurt almost did a double-take because it was so reminiscent of  _A Chorus Line._

Kurt pitched his voice to carry. "Seasons of Love."

He nodded at the pianist, who offered him a smile from the corner. Kurt couldn't help but be reminded of Brad. He would have encouraged him to go after this, him and the rest of his little cheering section of . . .  _family._  It was the only way to describe the combination of entwined people in the audience. He closed his eyes through the introduction and opened them into the world.

_Five hundred twenty-five thousand_  
 _Six hundred minutes,_  
 _Five hundred twenty-five thousand_  
 _Moments so dear._  
 _Five hundred twenty-five thousand_  
 _Six hundred minutes  
_ _How do you measure, measure a year?_

Kurt felt his body relax and his voice open as he sang, and he threw himself into the first verse; he loved the rhythm of  _in midnights, in cups of coffee_ , and the words just dripped off his tongue.

The rest of the song was easy; the more he sang, the lighter he felt. He let the last note ring out, and he held it through the last lingering piano chords. He knew when he finished that he had been fantastic.

There was no praise from the director, just a "thank you, please wait."

Blaine met him in the wings, overflowing with compliments, but Kurt just settled into a corner and waited. And waited, and waited until the last of the people crowding around them had sung. And then waited some more until one of the PAs called Blaine, Kurt, and a handful of others back to the stage, handing them sheet music for "Will I?"

"We want to hear how your voices blend," the voice from the darkness of the auditorium said.

Kurt grabbed the melody out of the air and hummed it under his breath. A quick glance at his music told him that he had the opening line. It had the potential to be tricky, since it started on the third beat of the bar, but Kurt had sung the song enough that he knew almost instinctively what to do.

He thought they sounded good, in the end, once they got through the first couple of fumbling attempts, but he kept noticing Blaine's presence, shining and slightly distracting in a number that was all about being invisible.

_I wonder if he'll get a part,_  Kurt wondered as they spun their voices into the last repeat of the song.  _Hell, I wonder if_ _ **I'll**_ _get a part._

After the song, they were dismissed by the same assistant who had herded them onto the stage, and were told to wait for the cast list within the half hour.

"If you're cast," the woman said, "we'll be starting rehearsal this afternoon."

Kurt gulped, watching Blaine walk away, and wondered briefly how it was possible for his life to change so quickly.

But he didn't have time to think too hard about it, because Puck was there at the door entrance to the auditorium grabbing at his hand, pulling him into a dark corner and kissing him soundly. He was breathless in seconds, hands scrabbling at Puck's shirt and into his hair.

"I thought - you had Beth?" Kurt said between kisses, but he wasn't too emphatic, because Puck was strong, lean and heavy against him, and Kurt wanted nothing more than to lose himself in his body for the next half hour. But he pulled away, shifting slightly and tugging at his shirt. "We're in public, sweetheart. Granted that most of the people here are gay, but still."

Puck clutched at Kurt's shoulders, holding him tight. "God, baby. You were so fucking awesome up there. I can't even-"

"You saw me? Where's Beth?" Kurt's mind was reeling; he didn't know what to think. Now he was worried about Blaine, and the baby, and — god, why were things so complicated?

"She woke up, so I gave her to Shelby for her bottle. I only saw the end, when you were up there with all the others." He paused, searching for words, and stared up at the stage. "You just- you looked like you fit, you know?"

"Really?" He couldn't help ask. It wasn't that he needed the ego boost, exactly, but Puck's particular brand of approval was particularly soothing at the moment. Surrounded by professionals and experienced actors, he wanted nothing more than to believe he belonged there on the stage.

Puck rolled his eyes. "Yes, really." He leaned in and kissed Kurt's ear. "You gonna let me show you later just how hot you were up there?"

Kurt smiled. "How can I say no to that?"

* * *

Toby watched Puck hand Beth off to Shelby and hightail it over to the door the moment the people on stage were dismissed. Darius laughed lightly next to him.

"Young love," he said, and Toby caught a hint of something familiar in Darius's rich voice.

"You from the South?" Toby relaxed and let his drawl slide out.

"Hot-lanta. You?"

"Louisville, Kentucky, and Goose Creek before that."

Darius smiled. "Not too many of us up here. We need to stick together."

_Not if you keep eyeing Will like that, we don't,_  Toby thought, but he kept quiet.

Darius nodded to the shadows where Puck and Kurt were tucked away. "The kid… Will's student. He's good."

"Yes." Toby smiled with pride, thinking about how much he'd seen Kurt blossom in the months since he'd first met him, playing piano with Brad and chasing Duncan and Cory around during their dinosaur phase. "He's really special. And talented. He needs . . ." Toby got hung up in his brain for a moment before tripping out the other side. "He needs so much more than what Lima can give him."

Darius hummed in understanding. "He needs this show."

Toby looked over at Will and Shelby, deep in discussion, at Darius, at himself. "The show, yes, but he also needs us. All of us." He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in closer to Darius. "He needs to know he's not alone. That we have all been where he is, and we will be here with him as he discovers himself."

"Why is he so important to you?" Toby could tell the question came from nothing more than genuine curiosity.

"Because he and I are the same," said Toby. "And he deserves better than what I was given."

* * *

"It's amazing how heavy a twelve-pound baby can feel after you've held her for a half hour," Shelby said, passing Beth to Toby.

"She's nothin'," Toby boasted, taking her in one arm. "You women just have weak limbs. You leave the baby-liftin' to us menfolk."

"Where's the chief baby-lifter?" Will wondered, glancing around. Toby gave him a poke and indicated the dark recesses of the green room, and Will caught a glimpse of Puck's hands in Kurt's hair. He looked away in a hurry.

"I seem to remember some green room makin'-out at my last show," Toby murmured, hefting Beth up higher on his shoulder. "That was a memorable night."

"I don't need to hear that," Shelby said without looking at him, reading over the script while sipping on her coffee. Darius glanced over her shoulder and whistled.

"Those are some detailed notes," he said. "Are you always so... thorough?"

"Yes," she nodded, definitively. "And you can say it, Tobias."

"Anal," he sang out. "She is."

Darius's eyebrows did an interesting series of calisthenics. "I bet classes with the two of you are a barrel of laughs."

"I'm a damn sight more gentle than the last Carmel choreographer, and that's saying something," Toby snorted, sharing a knowing glance with Shelby. "At least I haven't sent anyone to the hospital."

"Well, there was the time Chandra tripped and fell off the stage," she said, "but I don't think that counts, really."

"God. I was glad to leave high school behind." Darius shook his head, pulling out a chair and dropping into it. "You guys must either be reliving your glory days, or gluttons for punishment. Which one?"

"Definitely the latter," Will said, laughing. "I don't think I had any glory days in high school. They were just embarrassing."

"Oh, I don't know, darlin'," Toby replied, reaching a hand across the table. Will took it briefly and grinned, blushing. "I think you did just fine."

Toby shifted Beth's weight against his chest, and tried to maneuver her into his other arm, but his jostling made her squeak and squeal, and then her little lip began to tremble. He was surprised when Darius put a broad hand on his shoulder.

"Here. Let me."

Toby had never balked when Cory and Duncan got fussy, but he was feeling uncertain about Beth. Maybe she could tell. So he passed her over to Darius. He watched as this man who had been a stranger mere hours ago cuddled Beth to his chest, held her tightly in his strong arms and started a gentle bounce-and-sway motion, all the while crooning what sounded like "Summertime" into her tiny ear. She settled almost immediately.

Will shook his head in amazement. "Magic."

"I think once you've done it with your own kid, you never forget how," Darius said, his voice low and calm.

"You?" Toby crossed his arms, regarding Darius speculatively.

"Me," he affirmed. "We made the mistake, as many kids do, of assuming we couldn't get pregnant the first time. Really not a good move." He shifted his hold so that her tiny head was tucked into the crook of his arm, the blanket wrapped around her face, and she drowsed on, happily sleeping. "That was a long time ago. Long before I figured out that that hetero stuff really doesn't work for me."

Toby saw Will nod knowingly, and he felt a pang of some unfamiliar emotion, something like jealousy, and something like annoyance. He didn't like it much.

"How many kids do you have?"

"Just one. My son, Elijah. He's ten next month. He lives down with his momma in Atlanta, but I see them every now and then, between shows. I feel lucky I get to see him as often as I do."

Toby felt Will's eyes on him as he considered what to say. "I can understand that," he said at last. "My... own kids are here in Ohio. I'm glad I get to see them, more now."

Shelby's head snapped up and she stared at him. "Toby. Did somebody forget to remind you that you're gay? Since when do you have -?"

"Toby is Duncan and Cory's father," Will interjected quietly. "Brad, and Laurie and Andi - they had trouble getting pregnant, and once they figured out why, Toby volunteered."

"No way," they heard, and Toby turned to see Puck and Kurt standing beside the table, holding hands and looking somewhat mussed. Kurt's eyes were round, and Puck looked impressed. "Dude."

"Hey, I'm Uncle Toby," he said, holding up his hands. "That's it."

"Still. It's more than most friends would do. It's putting yourself out there." Darius handed the sleeping bundle to Puck, who took her seemingly without thinking about it and put her right to his shoulder, taking over the whisper-murmur-bounce-sway routine.

"Brad, Andi, and Laurie are my family, as much as Will is," Toby said, and noticed Kurt, standing silently beside him and nodding knowingly.

"Our chosen family," Toby heard Kurt whisper under his breath, and he reached his hand out, taking Kurt's in his and squeezing. Kurt looked at him, light shock playing over his face before he broke into a genuine grin.

_This boy,_  Toby thought with a mix of protectiveness and pride.  _He sees so much, and understands so much, and yet he doesn't know those things about himself. He just thinks he's ordinary, but he is so special._

"Hold on," Darius said, scratching his cheek. "Rewind. How many parents do these kids have?"

"It's a long story," Will said, and pushed out his chair. "We're not going to get through it in ten minutes, trust me. I'm going to run down the street for some actual coffee. Anyone want to come with me?"

* * *

By the time Will got back, they'd posted the cast list in the hallway. A small crowd was gathered around, making noises of excitement or disappointment. Will hung back, watching the throng, and he shook his head at Toby, perplexed.

"I don't know why this matters so much," he said, covering his eyes. "I'm not sure I can look."

Kurt rounded the corner, followed by a dark-haired boy about his same age, and they approached the posted list at a dead run, narrowly missing running into the wall. They ducked under the arms of the older, taller prospective cast members and popped up right in front of the wall where the list was posted.

"Someone's going to get mighty annoyed at them if they don't tone down that energy," Shelby said, making tut-tutting noises. Toby bumped her arm.

"Leave them to their exuberance," he said. "Kurt's only seventeen. Doesn't he deserve it?"

Whatever Shelby would have said in response to that was obliterated by the squeals of the teenage boys, and they came back with springs on their feet, faces alight with joy.

"Gordon!" Kurt gasped. "I got - oh my god, I'm Gordon!"

"Who's Gordon?" Will whispered to Toby, who was being strangled by Kurt's enthusiasm.

"He's the New Yorker in the Life Support meeting," Toby said. "Basically a glorified extra. Good part, though. Congratulations, Kurt!"

Kurt let go of Toby and grabbed the dark-haired boy by the hands. "Blaine, you got a part, too? What was it?"

The boy, Blaine, laughed, raising his eyebrows and giving a derisive snort. "Squeegee Man? Who the heck is that?"

"Oh, oh!" Kurt mimed running a cloth over a window. "Honest living, honest living..."

"That guy?" the boy said, his laughter redoubling and bending him over, gasping. It was hard not to laugh along; his smile was infectious. "Wow. I'm thrilled I got a part at all. You, though - Kurt, you were amazing. I'm glad they saw it."

Will heard a strangled cough, and turned to see Puck leaning against the wall, looking pointedly at Kurt and the boy, holding hands in the middle of the hallway. Kurt's smile faltered a little, and he dropped the boy's hands.

"I got in, Noah," he said in a hoarse whisper. "I got a part."

Puck kept his eyes trained on Kurt. "Baby, you're in RENT," he said, eliciting a squeal, and accepted Kurt's enthusiastic hug.

Puck held on for an extra second, and then turned to look at the dark haired boy, something close to shock crossing his features.

"Uh," he said, his voice hushed. "Congrats… Blaine."

The boy stared back, and Will could almost feel the electricity passing between the two of them.

"Thanks," the boy whispered, clearly unable to tear his eyes away from Puck.

Will turned to the other adults. He had no idea what was going on, but he didn't think the kids needed an audience, so he turned Toby and Shelby away.

"I think we need to give them a minute," he told Toby, and then lowered his voice further. "Was it just me, or was something going on there?"

Toby just shook his head. "Teenagers," he said with a who knows? look on his face. "Now, darlin', let's go look."

"I told you, I don't know if I —" Will didn't get to finish his sentence because Toby had steered him through the crowd and deposited him, blinking, right in front of the cast list. He scanned quickly, not quite processing his own name and Toby's, even as he heard Toby gasp and let out a hoot of laughter.

_Roger Davis - Will Schuester_  
 _Angel Dumott Schunard - Toby Grey_  
 _Tom Collins - Darius Mitchell_  
 _Maureen Johnson - Shelby Corcoran_  
 _Gordon/Swing - Kurt Hummel  
_ _Squeegee Man/Swing - Blaine Anderson_

"Will, you're Roger!" Toby crowed, throwing his fists into the air. "And I'm Angel!"

"Angel... indeed," came Darius's baritone from behind him. It sounded a little more like a complaint than a compliment. "Looks like we'll be working together."

Toby's lips twisted, and he moved in against Will, winding a hand around his waist. "All of us," he agreed. "Congratulations. I'm sure it'll be... fun."

Shelby nodded crisply as she glanced over Toby's shoulder at the list. "Looks like a good lineup. I know two of the leads, at least, and some of the swing cast."

"Well," said Toby, "I think this calls for a celebration. Tonight, after rehearsal, my house. We'll have a bonfire and roast some brats." He nodded stiffly at Darius. "Everyone's invited."

Darius smiled, and Will was pretty sure it was directed at him. "Sounds perfect."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We originally wrote this story before the Finn/Blaine relationship had been envisioned. After we finished Breathing Room, we had to rewrite everything, and take some scenes out entirely. It's been an excellent exercise in editing! 
> 
> Another piece of the puzzle falls into place... 
> 
> -amy

 

The green room was crowded, and Blaine was feeling a little on edge after the adrenaline rush of auditions. He picked his way through the crowd to where a battered piano was tucked into a corner. The bench was scarred and the keys were yellow. A couple of upper and lower keys were chipped, and two ebony keys were missing entirely. Still, it was reasonably in tune.

Blaine still sat and adjusted the bench, sitting with his back straight and his hands poised over the keys, just like he'd been taught at his very first piano lesson almost ten years prior. He picked out the introduction to "Glitter in the Air" and sung the first verse under his breath. He didn't need to perform any more, he just needed something familiar to take him out of his head.

_Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?  
_ _Closed your eyes and trusted, just trusted?  
_ _Have you ever thrown a fistful of glitter in the air?  
_ _Have you ever looked fear in the face and said, "I just don't care?"_

_It's only half past the point of no return  
_ _The tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn  
_ _The thunder before the lightning and the breath before the phrase  
_ _Have you ever felt this way?_

He paused momentarily, jerking his head around to look when a smooth, rich baritone joined him an octave down on the second verse. It was the man who'd been cast as Collins - who, as far as Blaine was concerned, had been the obvious choice for the part. The man leaned casually on the piano, singing along as Blaine continued to play.

When they finished, there was a smattering of pleased response from the actors nearby. The man who'd sung along was smiling at him in admiration. Blaine felt a measure of tension fall away.

"You got some chops on you, my friend."

"I've always liked to perform," Blaine said. He reached up a hand. "Blaine Anderson. It sounded so much better with your voice. I've always liked that song as a duet."

The man shook his hand. "I'm Darius Mitchell. This ain't your first gig."

"Well, I'm in high school, but I sing in the Warblers, my school's show choir? And I'm finishing my last year in the Columbus Boy Choir. I'm aging out of that." He thought about Finn and Carl, and added, "And I sing in a band, kind of. We're not really performing anywhere but this coffeehouse in Columbus yet."

"Coffeehouse in Columbus, hmm?" Darius cocked his head. "Which one?"

"Java the Hut."

Darius nearly fell over laughing. Blaine laughed, too.

"I know, it's a terrible name."

"Hey, now," said Darius, wiping his eyes. "I'll have you know  _I_  came up with that name. Auntie Irene didn't care much for it, but I told her it was just clever enough without being cute."

"Auntie Irene!" Blaine's eyes flew open. "You're Irene's  _nephew?"_

"C'mon, kid." Darius beckoned for him to join him at the battered card table. "You and me, we got some catching up to do. You're one of the regulars at the open mic? There ain't too many folks Irene talks about, but I have the feeling she's mentioned you before."

Blaine sighed. "I'm - I'm sorry. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed right now. I'm not sure I'm in any position to talk."  _Especially about Finn._  "All of this... getting cast, and... and the people."

Darius nodded, regarding him. "You and those other kids, the boy and his boyfriend with the baby. You guys know each other?"

"Kind of. Me and Noah -" He had to stop and listen to the name on his own lips. It seemed incredible that he knew it at last. "-met at Masque last winter in Dayton. I never thought I'd see him again."

"Ah." Darius nodded again, more thoughtfully. "I bet that  _was_  a surprise. You remembered him, then."

Blaine nodded. He was not going to say  _I can still feel his kisses in my feet, and other places,_  or  _I dream about him a lot,_  and especially not  _I can't stop thinking about the way he held me against the wall and made me lose my senses._ He took a careful breath, glancing around before lowering his voice. "I'd never really done that before. With anybody."

Darius raised an eyebrow. "Danced with a boy?"

"Let myself go." He shook his head. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"Something he did stayed with you, hmm?"

"Yeah."

"What do you think it was?"

Blaine sucked in a breath and tried to find the words to explain how Noah had affected him. "I felt alive again," he said after a long moment. "Even if I never saw him again, it wouldn't matter because I'd always remember what it felt like." Blaine shuddered, recalling the aftermath of the dancing and kissing. It had left him breathless, clothes and hair disheveled, and turned on beyond belief.

"Alive how?"

"Well… I'd done stuff with other boys," he said. "I always knew I was gay, so that wasn't the issue. But there was something... in the way. Something missing." He looked up at Darius. "I think it was something I need for it to feel right, to feel  _enough._ "

"Sure, yeah," Darius said. "You can be sure we've all got those things."

"And I thought maybe I'd never find it again. Even if I did find another boy like... like Noah." He swallowed on the lump in his throat.

"And now he's here?" Darius prompted.

"Yeah." Blaine laughed. ""Not a boy  _like_  him, but  _him._ And, of course, he's got a boyfriend. A really nice one."  _And I have someone who takes care of me_.  _Like I need more complicated with my complicated._

"Kurt, was it? You and he were gettin' along just fine earlier. Does he know about what happened with you and Noah?"

"Yeah, he said... he said they talked about it, and it was fine. Is fine."

That had been a surprise, too, although Blaine knew plenty of guys who dated more than one person at a time. Finn practically had boys coming out his ears. No, the biggest surprise was that Noah had been thinking about Blaine all this time, too. Kurt (who was quite possibly the loveliest boy Blaine had ever met) hadn't even needed to tell him that Blaine had been in Noah's thoughts and dreams these past months, because Blaine knew the truth the instant that their eyes had connected. Noah had looked like he wanted to devour him right then and there. It had been terrifying - and absolutely, completely compelling. To have  _that_  unbelievable feeling, on top of the excitement and stress of auditions, was almost more than he could handle. He needed...

He needed Finn.

"Well, then." Darius tapped the table with finality. "I guess it's fine, then. Don't go lookin' for trouble, my mama always said."

"Yeah, maybe not." Blaine rose from the table, reaching into his pocket for his phone. "Will you excuse me? I need... I have to make a call."

Blaine decided the men's room would provide enough privacy for his conversation. He pressed the button to dial Finn's number and put the phone to his ear, feeling his hands shaking a little. He hated being so anxious, so out of control. It had been weeks, now, since he'd seen Finn - he'd been away on a family vacation, he'd said - and even though he should be back in town by now, Blaine had been reluctant to call.

" _Blaine?"_  he heard Finn say. Blaine could hear his surprised smile. Blaine found himself smiling, too. He could feel his own body relaxing, attuning to the cadence of Finn's words.  _His Voice,_  Finn had told him, and it did seem to be true. Blaine could hear two words from Finn and be immediately affected.

"Hey," he whispered. "I'm — I'm sorry I didn't call before now."

" _It's okay. I just got home a couple days ago, and it's been crazy here, with the - everything."_  He paused, then added,  _"It's nice to hear from you."_

Blaine sighed, relieved that he hadn't done something wrong by  _not_  calling. "I'm glad you answered. I've, um."  _Missed you_  wasn't quite right, but it felt close to that. "I've been doing okay."

" _Did you get my text?"_

"Oh — yes! The song." Blaine hummed a few bars of the Katy Perry track Finn had sent him. "Is it a new release? I hadn't heard that one before, but it's great."

" _Kind of a pre-release."_ He could hear Finn's smile again.  _"Glad you liked it."_

"Finn, I… something happened today."

" _All right. Just take a deep breath, and tell me about it."_

He did as Finn suggested. "I came to this audition, for a summer theater thing, and . . ." He didn't know where to start. With seeing Noah, or meeting Kurt, or getting a part? He took another nervous breath. "I don't know if you remember, I told you about going to a club with my friends? Well, there was this boy there..."

Blaine heard a pause in the conversation, and then Finn's sigh.  _"Hang on a second... Blaine, I have to take this call. Do you want to hold for a minute? I'll try to keep it short. Or I can just call you right back."_

Blaine shook his head even though Finn couldn't see him. "It's okay. I don't have long, so I'd better go. I can call you later, if you'd like."

" _Yeah,"_  Finn said.  _"That'll be great, Blaine. Bye."_

Blaine pocketed his phone and took yet another deep breath before leaving the cool of the restroom for the bright chaos of the hallway. For several minutes he paced the stretch of carpet that ran from the dressing rooms to the green room. It seemed that everyone was in the waiting-around period of the afternoon, while the director planned the first rehearsal.

He'd been too nervous to eat all day, and he felt a headache pinching behind his eyes. He thought he'd seen a pop machine in a corner somewhere, and he fished around in his pocket until he found the quartet of quarters he'd snagged from his cup holder before the audition. He moved slowly down the hall, poking his head in and out of dark, quiet rooms until he was brought up short by a soft voice echoing out of the farthest room.

"I didn't intend to. But Mr. Schue was here, and Toby, and they were so  _enthusiastic_ -"

Kurt. And a crackly voice on speakerphone. A very... familiar one.

" _I got it. I know how Mr. Schue can be. And I know how Toby affects you. So what is it? Are you one of the leads?"_

"No, it's just a small part. But it's a solo, Finn."

It  _was_  Finn.

His first instinct was to panic.  _Shit_. Blaine knew that Finn had  _his boys_  that he took care of, and he knew that Finn was involved with them.  _In love with them_ , he heard Finn's voice from that night back in March, the night when his energy was different and less needy:  _"I mean, I take care of them, but I_ _ **love**_ _them, too. We're together, you know."_

Blaine hadn't really understood, had asked some half-hearted questions about the three of them, and tried to ignore the little nagging voice in his head that told him  _three people is too many, why should he want you, too?_  He never said a word to Finn, though, because as long as he got to keep having Finn's calming presence and strong hand to keep him in line, nothing else really mattered.

Except now it did.

Because Kurt and Noah were together, and it sounded like they were also with Finn. Were Finn's  _boys._  Were Finn's  _boyfriends_.  _Shit._

" _That's great, baby. RENT's way better than Free to Be You and Me. I'm proud of you."_

He could hear the smile on Kurt's face. "Thanks. I still can't quite believe it."

" _It's a lot of driving, though... are you going to be there a lot? I don't want you to -"_

"I  _know_  it's a long drive. But I'm pretty sure I can stay with Shelby, or Toby, if we have late rehearsals. Noah will already be out here a lot, to bring Beth back and forth."

He could hear Finn's concern for Kurt, and wondered what his own news of a part in the show would get him from Finn. The same kind of congratulations and concern? Or something less than, because he wasn't part of Finn's heart the way his boyfriends were? The thought gave him an unexpected pain.

" _I don't think I'm going to be able to come out there much with you, Kurt."_

"No, Finn, I'm not saying you  _need_  to come with me. You have summer school, and I won't have a consistent schedule." Kurt sighed, short and sharp. "Can't you just... let me have this?"

Blaine gasped. The last time he'd taken that kind of a tone with Finn, he'd gotten half a dozen firm swats. But Finn's response to Kurt was calm and even.  _"You sound upset. This isn't going to be a problem for us, is it?"_

There was a brief silence. Kurt sighed again.

" _Kurt - answer me."_

"No... sir."

Well. Blaine didn't need to wonder any more. He'd never called Finn  _sir_ , though they'd talked about it a little bit as Blaine had learned more about the scene.  _I don't need that from you_ , Finn had told him, so they'd stuck with their names. But hearing Kurt say it, he knew without a doubt that Kurt - and therefore Noah - had to be Finn's boys.

He leaned against the wall with a gentle thud, and closed his eyes. Why did he  _always_  have to fall headlong into the complicated?

"What are you doing?" a voice hissed from the vicinity of his left ear, and he opened one startled eye to see Noah peering at him with barely concealed outrage.

"I - "

Noah grabbed him by the arm and steered him into the hallway, his grip like iron on his bicep. It should have felt intrusive, but all Blaine could think was  _he's touching me, oh, thank god, he's touching me._

"What did you hear?" Noah demanded, staring into Blaine's eyes.

Blaine's breath came quick, and he licked his lips, staring at Noah's mouth, within kissing distance. "Just Kurt, talking to... to someone on the phone, about getting the part. He sounded so... happy."

Noah's hackles relaxed, and he took a step back, giving Blaine room to breathe. He looked somewhat mollified, closing his eyes for a moment. "Okay. I'm sorry - it's just that…" Noah ran a hand over his head. "Shit. I didn't expect this."

"Expect what?" Blaine said quietly, and Noah's eyes snapped back up to his.

"Expect - Kurt getting a part," he said, then paused, just staring. Noah's eyes were hazel, exactly as Blaine had remembered, but they looked perplexed, as they never had in his dreams.

"Anything else?" Blaine found himself asking, and he had to look away, because as much as he had known he liked boys since fourth grade, he hadn't been  _this_  attracted to anyone in a long time. Possibly ever.

Noah started to shake his head, but then he stopped, sighed.

"I didn't expect to see you again," he said in an undertone. Blaine felt a wave of dizziness pass over him, and he staggered momentarily. Noah put out a hand to steady him. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," he murmured, and focused on the warmth of Noah's hand against his arm. "I... I didn't expect to see  _you_ again, either. That night, at... at Masque... it was..." Blaine couldn't organize his thoughts.

"You remember that, huh?" Noah's supportive hand became a caress, and his eyes were wide and questioning. "I thought maybe it was just me. Like, maybe I'd made it up, or something."

Blaine let his voice hush to a whisper. "If you made it up, so did I. I'd  _never_  done anything like that before. And it… it was  _hot_." He felt color rise into his cheeks, and he ducked his head so Noah wouldn't see.

Noah's hand came up to brush his cheek. He wondered if his face felt as warm to Noah's hand as it did from the inside.

"Yeah," he said, with a shaky laugh, leaning in. Noah was close enough now that Blaine could feel his breath on his cheek. "I've... been dreaming about you. A lot."

Blaine shivered at Noah's fingers, lightly touching his sideburns, the edge of his jaw. He closed his eyes and yearned toward it, his mind coming up with all kinds of reasons why it was a bad idea, but just as he'd done at the club, he found himself  _not caring,_  simply letting himself feel.

Only this time, it was entirely without the aid of cocaine. It was just  _them,_  just Blaine and Noah... and it was as strong and powerful and overwhelming as he'd remembered. He'd never expected to like the thrill of someone  _wanting_  him, but it made his heart race and his breath come shallow. When Noah pulled him in close and sealed their mouths together, he didn't pull away.

It was sparky and intense and  _god,_ so blisteringly hot, just as he remembered it being before. Blaine felt like he was sliding underwater and Noah was the only thing tethering him to land. He let himself fall for the briefest of moments - before he was shocked out of his daze by a gentle cough from somewhere behind him.

"... Sweetheart?"

Kurt stood there, watching them, his hand on the wall. He took one step toward them.

Blaine stumbled away, trying to put some distance between himself and Noah - as though there was  _any_  doubt about what they had been doing. He stammered a useless apology. "It's not - I'm sorry, I just -"

"Blaine, wait," Noah said, but Blaine had already taken several long strides away and rounded the corner before Kurt could say another word. He made it into the doorway by the green room before he felt like there was enough room in the space between him and Kurt and Noah for him to make sense of it all. All he could think was,  _I'm going to mess this up._

"Blaine?" came Kurt's voice from down the hall, and for a moment he considered not responding, just hiding in the dim, recessed doorway until Kurt gave up and went away. But Kurt didn't go away. Instead, he was a little too close, his voice gentle and his gaze soft.

"I'm sorry," he said again, mostly because he couldn't think of anything else to help make anything better.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Kurt was being so  _nice._  He didn't understand how he could - why was he -

"You and Noah are  _boyfriends,"_  he burst out, his hands illustrating his point. "What am I  _doing_ here? There's no room for this. This isn't my place to - to -" He couldn't even say it, but suddenly his thoughts were back in the kiss, and it was so much better than the ones in his dreams that he bit off a strangled moan.

"I'm telling you, Blaine, you're not doing anything wrong." Kurt's hands took his, holding on, smiling patiently.

"But I  _kissed_  him," Blaine whispered.

"Honey, he's been dreaming about kissing you for months.  _Months._  Trust me, we heard about it every day."

 _We. God._ Blaine could only picture Finn with  _his boys_  at home — but now he knew who they were. Finn... Kurt... and  _Noah._  It was too much for his brain, and he shook his head in denial. "The guy on the phone... Finn?"

"Uh-huh," Kurt agreed, glancing down at their joined hands. "We're all in this together, the three of us. And others. It's complicated."

The dizzy feeling was back, and it threatened to overcome him. Blaine leaned on the wall, tipping his head back, with a sigh, his mind racing. "Wow."

"Beyond wow," Kurt nodded. He looked far too okay with this, almost as if...

"It doesn't bother you?" asked Blaine. "I... don't bother you?"

An expression Blaine couldn't read passed over Kurt's face, but what he saw after that was clearly amusement. "Whatever else is going on here, Blaine, you can be sure that  _bother_  is the least of my worries." Kurt tipped his head. "I was there, too, you know, at Masque that night."

"Really?"

"Really," Kurt said. He tossed his head. "And too bad you missed me, because I looked  _good."_

That surprised a laugh out of Blaine, and he let his confusion and appreciation and everything else he was feeling show on his face. "You're... not what I expected, Kurt Hummel."

"I'm full of surprises." Kurt took Blaine lightly by the elbow and escorted him gently down the hall back toward the green room. "Now, I think maybe you two have some things to discuss?"

Blaine let himself be led, trying not to feel overwhelmed. Kurt maneuvered him to a corner with a small sofa. Noah was there, holding a blanketed bundle that he was bouncing gently. Kurt nodded for Blaine to sit. When Blaine absently rubbed at the bridge of his nose, Kurt looked harder at him.

"Headache?" Blaine nodded. Kurt waved a hand at him. "The two of you, talk. I'll be right back."

Noah raised his face to receive a quick kiss from Kurt before he headed out the door, and he watched him go with a sober expression. When he looked back at Blaine, though, his face seemed to clear, and he gave him a small smile, rubbing circles on the baby's back.

"I guess this must seem pretty fucked up to you, huh?"

Blaine huffed out a short laugh. "I wouldn't use those words exactly. Unusual, maybe. But I don't think I'm in any position to judge what is or isn't, um,  _fucked up_."

"That's something, I guess." Noah shook his head, and his smile turned inward. He looked at his daughter with affection. "Papa's got a lot of love in his life, doesn't he, hmmm?" Absently he dropped a kiss on her forehead, then laid his cheek against her soft hair. "So... me and Kurt." His eyebrows went up, and he looked meaningfully at Blaine. "He told you?"

Blaine nodded and dropped his head against the back of the sofa. "Yeah. You and him, and... Finn? The three of you?"

The expression on Noah's face was hard to characterize, but it was definitely intense. "Yeah. We're... like, a family. You could think of there being, like, circles, ripples. Like, if you threw a stone in the water? Me, Kurt and Finn - we're the stone. Then there are others, in circles outside us, and some of the circles are further out than others... " He laughed then, and it was such an unexpectedly pleasant sound that Blaine had to smile back. "Kind of a lot of circles."

"Kurt said that you guys have an...  _arrangement_ , I guess, but he didn't call it that."

Noah nodded. His eyes caught Blaine's and held them. "After that night, at Masque... with you. I talked to Kurt, told him what had happened between us. He was upset, but he understood. I mean, he understands me. How I... uh. Make connections." His face went red. "That doesn't sound very good. I mean, I don't go fucking around with people all the time. It's not like that."

"Um, okay?" Not like Blaine was anyone to judge because he hadn't done that with anyone,  _ever_ , but he wasn't about to make himself appear the clueless virgin. Maybe that would kind of be a turn-off, and he really didn't want to scare Noah away.

Noah edged a little closer to him on the couch, close enough so that their knees touched. He looked a little nervous, himself. "I'm still dealing with this, I guess. Seeing you here, after seven months..." His gaze flickered up to Blaine's. "I've thought about you. A lot. Maybe that's weird, I don't know."

"No," Blaine said, shaking his head. "I've thought about you, too." He ducked his eyes, looked down at his shoes. "You - I - uh." He felt embarrassed, and got tangled in his thoughts. Noah smiled at him, though, and crinkled his eyes, and Blaine could almost hear Finn saying  _relax_  and  _try again_. So Blaine took a breath and tried again. "I mean, I've kissed other guys before, but I'd never felt  _like that_ , never felt, um. You know."

Noah's expression sharpened. Blaine felt suddenly a little like a mouse being watched by an owl. Finn had looked at him just like that the first time he'd hugged Blaine, on the street outside Java the Hut. It was an experience he remembered vividly. He flushed.

"Yeah," Noah said softly, putting a hand on his knee. "Dude. I definitely  _know."_

Blaine looked up as a shadow crossed in front of him, and caught Kurt there, a Coke in one hand and the other hand cupping something. Blaine put his hand out instinctively, and Kurt handed him the ice-cold plastic bottle before pressing three bright orange caplets into his hand.

"Ibuprofen. And caffeine." Kurt nodded at him. "Take the pills, drink the pop. I'll be back in a few minutes with something for you to eat."

Blaine shook his head. "No food." His stomach turned at the thought, but Kurt just stared at him.

"You'll feel better. Trust me."

"Okay," he said.

He swallowed the pills and took a long drink of the soda, trying not to think too hard about Noah's hand still on his knee. Kurt's smile made him feel warm inside.

"Best to listen to Kurt," Noah said, watching him walk out the door again. "He's pretty smart."

"What's your daughter's name?" Blaine asked, trying for a slightly safer topic. Noah grinned, turning the blinking baby to face him.

"It's Beth," he said. "She's with me part time, and with her adoptive mother the rest of the time. Shelby - Maureen, right? That's the part she got?" At Blaine's nod, he laughed. "Figures."

As he drank, Blaine felt the caffeine from his soda begin to clear the fog behind his eyes, and he blinked. There was something in Noah's tone that hinted at both fondness and underlying tension, but Blaine was awash in so much information that he couldn't logically follow anything except the actual words he was hearing. There were a million questions Blaine wanted to ask, beginning with who the baby's mother was, and ending with who all the adults were, hanging around Noah and Kurt like doting not-quite parents. But he couldn't ask any of them. Instead, he just looked at Beth's tiny face, and the gentle way Noah handled her, and thought about how it had felt having those gentle hands, rough against him. He shivered at the idea, and felt his heart skip, and covered all of it with another swig of his soda.

"So..." Noah said, watching him closely. "You know about us, and our agreement. It's basically,  _no hiding, no lying."_

"No hiding, no lying," Blaine echoed. "Got it."

Noah nodded. "And you're still sitting here, not, like, running away screaming. I guess that's something, too." He hiked Beth up into a vertical hold on his shoulder, and she gave Blaine a dazed look that reminded him of how  _he_  was feeling just about now. Noah paused, glancing at the door before turning back to Blaine. He smiled. "So... now we get to decide what happens next. That is, if you know what you want...?"

"I- uh." There was so much forwardness going on that Blaine didn't quite know what to say. He was used to dancing around things, to being the one wanting and chasing,  _always_  chasing. Being chased, being  _wanted_ , was new. Not at all unwelcome, just more than he had ever expected. He tried not to think too hard, and so was almost startled when he heard his voice drifting towards Noah. "I think... I want to kiss you again."

"I think that's a fantastic idea," Noah said, smiling, and leaned right in to capture his lips.

 _This is a first,_  Blaine thought, almost in a panic,  _being kissed by a guy holding a baby._ The baby didn't seem to be objecting, though, and neither was Blaine. In fact, he was making noises he was pretty sure had never come out of his mouth before, noises that might be a little too loud and needy right here in the middle of the rehearsal space. Noah's free hand came up and went around his neck, stopping him from moving away even if he'd tried. It made his head swim, this kiss, in a way he hadn't felt in seven months - a way, in fact, he'd thought he might never feel again.

He arched his back slightly because it sent his neck tighter against Noah's palm, because he  _liked_  the pressure there. Noah seemed to know it, too, because he shifted and increased the strength of his touch. Blaine hummed into the kiss, because  _God_ , it felt  _so good_. He wanted to just lose himself right there. He knew it was a terrible idea, but - oh, how he wanted it anyway.

"I hate to say this," Noah said, breaking the kiss, breathing hard against Blaine's neck, "but don't you have to go to rehearsal or something? Because this is pretty fucking awesome, and I'm not going to want to stop anytime soon if we keep going."

Blaine gasped, breathless and unbelievably turned on, and shifted a little further away from Noah. "Uh, yeah. Right. Rehearsal."  _Damn rehearsal._

Noah grinned, his fingers grazing Blaine's jaw. "But after. You going to Toby's party? That house is huge. Lots of places to hide out." His words were casual, but the look he was giving Blaine made it  _very_  clear what he was hoping to do in one of those rooms.

"I think I'm going to the party. But, um. I don't - I'm not —"

"Dude. Hey." Noah's hand was on Blaine's, then, holding it, warm and strong. "I'm not trying to rush things here. I'm really into you, but there's no hurry." He quirked an eyebrow at Blaine, leaning back a little. "Hell, we could just sit and  _talk,_  if you want. But I kind of get the feeling that you don't."

Blaine felt color in his cheeks, and worried at his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment. "You're right," he whispered. "I mean, I do want to talk, but... I don't want to  _just_ do that. I think I'd like to do more of  _this_." He let the words out in a rush and gestured between their bodies with his other hand.

"That's cool," Noah said, soft and slow, and squeezed Blaine's hand before letting him go. "You should finish that soda, or Kurt's going to get on your case."

Blaine knew that was something else he wasn't even close to understanding, but he swallowed down the last dregs from the bottle and rose, tossing the empty bottle into a bright green recycling bucket. He turned and nodded at Noah, smiling as casually as he could manage. "I guess I'll see you at the party, then."

"You can bet on it... Blaine."

On Noah's tongue, in his smoky voice, Blaine's name sounded entirely too indecent. He felt something inside himself quiver, wanting to respond in a way he didn't know what to do about. Noah's smile was friendly, though, and watching him there with Beth gave Blaine enough distance from him to make his escape.

He felt Noah's eyes on him, lingering a fraction too long as he made his way out of the room and onto the stage for rehearsal. It made him feel raw, exposed — and so brilliantly alive that he felt like he might burst.

His reluctance notwithstanding, it turned out to be a  _great_  rehearsal. Blaine felt like he was more fully inside of himself than he'd ever been, and was more aware of the others around him. He felt connected to everyone else, like they were seeing him as he was in those moments, instead of the mask of Blaine he'd crafted and worn so carefully.

"You sound fantastic," Kurt whispered to him between scenes. "What I wouldn't give for your voice."

"Thank you... I don't think I'm ever going to be able to listen to Life Support the same way after hearing you do it, though. You're really talented." Blaine offered the compliment genuinely, because Kurt  _was_  incredibly good, and Kurt seemed to take it in exactly that way.

The other performers probably sounded amazing, too, but Blaine was only peripherally aware of them reading through their lines for the first time, discussing ideas about interpretation and joking and laughing, because his entire being, his whole self, was thrumming with the memory of Noah's hand on his neck, Noah's mouth kissing him, Noah's voice saying  _Blaine._ He couldn't quite believe that he was going to have a chance to do all that again in just a short time - possibly with Noah's  _boyfriend_  in the other room. The promise of that was overriding his usual fears about turning into a total goofball, and the anticipation and excitement and - yes,  _arousal -_  of the situation were all mixing inside him, giving him a natural high.

Kurt must have picked up on some of that, because he gave Blaine an understanding smile.

"It looks like you and Noah figured some things out?" he said, kind of a question and kind of not.

"Um." Blaine shuffled his feet against the worn boards of the stage. "Yeah. We did. I still don't really understand everything. But yes." Blaine felt oddly calmed by Kurt's appraising gaze. "We had a good talk."

Kurt touched his hand, just for a moment. "You can ask me anything. I'm happy to talk about it, too. He's had a lot to say about you over the past months. Though I'm sure there are some things that only Noah will be able to answer. You don't need to be worried about me." His eyes were kind. "I'd like to be your friend."

Blaine wanted that, too, but he didn't have the words to say  _yes_  or  _I could use a friend_. They were things he'd grown unused to saying because in his world they implied weakness, and Anderson men weren't weak. So he just smiled and nodded and followed Kurt into the wings.

* * *

Blaine set his phone on the passenger seat, turned on his Bluetooth device and hit dial before backing out of his dad's driveway.

"' _lo?"_  Finn's voice sounded confused.

"It's Blaine. Did I wake you up?" He merged into traffic and headed towards the highway, following the careful directions Toby had printed for him, complete with a hand-drawn map, on the back of an old flyer he'd pulled off the green room bulletin board.

" _No."_  Finn paused, and Blaine could have sworn that Finn was shaking his head.  _"Yes. Dude. I fell asleep on my homework. Summer school sucks without… anybody around to keep me focused."_

"Sorry. Look, um. I need to talk to you about something." Blaine tried to make his voice sound confident, secure. But he was kind of trembly inside, unsure of how to begin.

" _I'm here, Blaine,"_  Finn said, now fully awake and attentive.

Blaine figured the best thing would be to just lay it all out there. "I went to auditions for a community theater show today. I got a part, a small one, but something else happened, too."

" _Community theater...?"_  Finn's tone was quizzical, and Blaine knew he had to be running a hundred scenarios over in his head.  _"Blaine, are you telling me -"_

"I met Noah and Kurt."

There was a stunned silence, but Blaine made himself pause, biting his lip, to give this a chance to sink in. Finally he heard Finn sigh.  _"Well... I guess it was bound to happen, all of us being in music together and... everything."_

"Yeah,  _everything,"_  he stressed, nodding. "But - I didn't tell them anything about you, once I figured it out. Once it became clear that _they're_  your boyfriends. But I think- I mean, if you agree - I think it's time to tell them."

" _That you're Patrick?"_

"Yeah." Blaine sighed. "It would seem wrong, now that I  _know_  them, not to say anything. Because if I  _didn't_  tell them, and it came out later, I think they'd be hurt and I don't want that for the three of you."

" _You're right. Of course you can tell them. Are you going to Toby's? Kurt said there was going to be some kind of cast party there."_  Finn sighed.  _"I wish I were there. I wish we could tell them together. But there's no way I can get out there quick enough, not with this homework."_

The idea of Finn showing up and adding himself to the mix of people in the cast of  _RENT_  made him a little giddy. "Yeah, I'm on my way now. Toby, he seems nice."

" _He's Mr. Schue's fiancé. He's a good guy. He and Kurt get along like a house on fire."_ Blaine could hear the fondness in Finn's voice when he added,  _"It's good for Kurt, having someone like Toby. Like, a mentor or something, you know?"_

Blaine nodded, even though Finn couldn't see him. "Yeah," he said. "I do know." He paused, thinking about the  _other_  realization he'd had that morning. "But Finn, there's something else."

" _Okay."_ Even though there was underlying tension in Finn's voice, like he was expecting bad news, it sounded calm.  _"What is it?"_

"The boy Noah met at the club, back in November? That... that was me. Is me." There was silence from Finn's end of the phone, and Blaine worried that they'd been disconnected. Or worse, that Finn had hung up on him. "Finn?"

" _I'm here. I - um."_  He heard Finn let out a shuddery breath.  _"Okay. Wow. I didn't expect that at all."_

"Neither did I. You can ask Kurt, later, and he'll tell you all about having to talk me down from a panic attack."

" _I didn't realize... the club - I mean, I know Puck's been dreaming about that night for months."_

 _Puck? Oh - Noah._  "Yeah. I have, too."

" _I never... I mean, you..."_  Finn was floundering, Blaine could tell.

"I never said much about it, really, so you wouldn't have known." Blaine let out a rough laugh. "Honestly, part of me thought I'd imagined it all. I  _was_  pretty high that night."

" _You were, huh?"_  Now Finn sounded suspicious.  _"Are you trying to tell me that the way you were, with him, that was all just the drugs talking? Because if it was, you're gonna have to tell him right away -"_

"No, no." Blaine rushed to get his words out. "The way I was with him? God, Finn, no. It wasn't just the drugs talking. I just... afterwards, I wondered if I was remembering it right. Like, whether the drugs made me remember more than what really happened, you know?"

" _And? Now that you've had a chance to talk with him... did they?"_

Blaine felt a blush, hot on his cheeks. "No. No, they didn't. We both remember it the same."

" _Okay."_ He heard Finn's breath slow, even out.  _"You're the boy from the bar. Jesus."_  He laughed.  _"Kind of figures, really. Puck's always had this habit of taking what's mine."_

For a moment, Blaine was speechless. Then he recovered enough to stammer out, "He's not - I don't -  _fuck_ , Finn. I don't want what you and I have from him. I promised you, I'm  _yours_."

" _Blaine. Calm down. I'm not saying there's anything wrong here. I've known Puck a long time. He's my best friend. He kind of throws his whole self into every relationship he's in. You've probably seen him with his daughter, Beth?"_

"Yeah. He's, um. Really good with her." Blaine recalled the image of Noah sitting next to him, the baby cradled to his chest. He hadn't expected that kind of tenderness from the boy who'd been so forward and  _rough_  with him at the club.

" _Yeah, he really is. Remind me to tell you the story of how I tried to get him to give her up."_

"Why do I think  _that_  didn't go well?"

Finn laughed grimly.  _"That would be an understatement."_

"And a story for another time, huh?"

" _Way too complicated for over the phone. I guess I can tell you the whole story, now, though. Wow, that's a huge relief. I don't like hiding things from them, or you."_

"The next time we're together, you can tell me everything. But . . . Finn, I... I have to ask. Kurt, he saw us together." He bit his lip.

" _You and Puck? You mean, together together?"_  Finn sounded startled. Blaine laughed, somewhat hysterically.

"Not like  _that._  He - we kissed. And he said it was okay." Blaine shook his head, still not quite believing it. "And I need to know, if  _you're_  okay. If something happens between N - Puck, and me. I don't know that anything will." There were so many things running through Blaine's head, starting with  _scary_  and ending with  _too intense_.

" _Yes, it's okay. Puck... he's got his own way of loving. We just have to stand back and let him, mostly. As long as he's honest with us afterwards, we're okay."_

"He said the rules were no hiding, no lying. Honesty, all the time. That's why I  _had_  to tell you everything."

" _As much as you can, yes. And... that was the right thing to do, Blaine."_ He could imagine the faint approving smile on Finn's face, and it warmed him from the inside.  _"You're a good boy."_

Blaine shivered, the same way he always did when Finn called him a good boy, and sighed a light, happy sigh. "I l- um." He had to swallow what he'd almost blurted out, the unsaid words on the tip of his tongue. "I love it when you call me that," he finally managed. "It feels good."

Finn's voice was soft.  _"It's supposed to, b- Blaine."_

Blaine sat in silence for a moment, trying not to think about what Finn  _hadn't_ said, about the way his own words were echoing with his heartbeat.  _Love you. Baby._ It was impossible. No matter what had happened at the Indigo Girls concert they'd attended. His body was still thrumming with the press of Noah's lips and body against him, and the excitement of being cast in RENT, and now Toby's party... it was all jumbled up inside him, confusing and compelling all at once. But he most definitely  _did not_  have any kind of secret feelings for Finn, because they didn't have that kind of a relationship.

"I, um." He cleared his throat. "I think I need to pay attention to the directions now. Should I call you tomorrow?"

Finn's voice was low, calming.  _"Yes, please. That would be fine. Have fun, at the party, and if you want help telling them, about us? You can call me."_

"Okay," he replied. "Thank you." He listened to the comfortable silence between them for almost another mile. "Bye, Finn," he finally said, softly. 

" _Don't worry, Blaine,"_  was Finn's reply before he ended the call.


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt watched Blaine approach the house with a sense of unease. Having Blaine here wasn't a problem for him. It was the expression on his face that was worrying him. Something was on Blaine's mind. Kurt wasn't at all sure how much he could ask Blaine to tell him about it.

Instead, he just pulled Blaine into a warm hug when he reached the top of the steps. "Were the directions easy enough to follow?"

"Yeah," Blaine said. His voice sounded shaky.

"Everything okay?" Kurt whispered into his ear, allowing himself the luxury of asking, and then telling himself  _don't push him, if he wants to talk, he will_.

"I think so," Blaine replied, but his eyes darted around the porch anxiously, seeking something.  _Someone._

"He's upstairs, putting the baby down. He'll be down soon. Beth's a pretty easy sleeper."

"Oh. Okay. Um." Blaine twisted a finger in the hem of his t-shirt and shifted from foot to foot. "I- um. Need to talk to both of you, when Noah's here."

"O-okay," Kurt said, at the sudden anxiety those words provoked.  _Need to talk_. Nothing good  _ever_  came from those words.

Blaine touched his arm, and bit his lip. "No - it's okay. I'm just... there's something you deserve to know."

"Are you a superhero or something? About to reveal your secret identity?" Kurt raised an eyebrow, and Blaine actually giggled.

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "I'm no Rage."

Kurt sighed. "Too bad, I always thought I'd make a pretty good JT."

"You would," Blaine said softly, and Kurt pretended not to notice that Blaine was blushing. Or that  _he_  was, too.

 _Stop flirting_ , he told himself sternly.  _It's Noah he wants. Noah he needs._

"Here," he said, moving around Blaine to guide him towards the door without actually touching him. "Why don't I give you the dime tour and get you something to drink, and then we'll go find Noah."

"Sure," Blaine said, moving into the house. Kurt had to fight his instinct to put a hand on the small of Blaine's back.

This night was going to  _suck_.

* * *

"In here," said Kurt to Blaine, pushing open the door to the third floor bedroom.

Puck was leaning over Beth on the four-poster bed, changing her diaper. He looked completely enraptured, grinning at her, tugging on her toes, speaking in a soft voice to her while he worked: "That's it, you'll be so much more comfortable now... you need some new socks, huh?"

Kurt reached into the diaper bag by the door and handed a roll of socks to Puck without comment. Puck barely looked up from what he was doing. It wasn't until he'd put them on and she was kicking the air that he seemed to realize Kurt and Blaine were there. He blinked at Kurt and smiled. "Thanks, baby."

"You're welcome. She got her feet in it again, didn't she?" He wrinkled his nose, and Puck laughed.

"Always. At least she didn't pee on me this time."

The expression on Puck's face when he looked at Blaine was strikingly familiar. Kurt could tell he was just as smitten by Blaine's presence as he was by Beth's.

 _It's not a bad thing,_  he reminded himself.  _He still loves you. We're not any different than we were yesterday._

Except they were. Yesterday, the boy in the club was still a dream, and the three of them were together, him and Finn and Puck, almost like it used to be. And now... now, Puck was staring into Blaine's eyes like he never wanted to do anything else.

Puck reached out a hand. "Hey," he said softly. Blaine took a deep breath before grasping it.

"I have to tell you something," he said, almost in a panic.

"Okay," Puck said, catching Kurt's eye with a question. Kurt just shrugged and shook his head.

"I didn't know-" Blaine started. "I mean, I  _knew_  there were boyfriends, but —"

"Just tell us," Kurt said.

"I'm  _Patrick_ ," he blurted out, and Kurt's stomach dropped to his feet.

Puck looked at Kurt, grinning, like it was a joke. "What? I don't... " Then he paused, his hand on Beth's stomach, and his smile slowly slipped away. "Patrick," he repeated, and it was flat and a little faint. "You're... what?"

"You know Finn," Kurt whispered, understanding dawning. "You... oh, my god."

Blaine paused, sighed. "Yeah," he admitted, his eyes on the floor.

Kurt felt his body start to shake. For the past six months, Patrick had been this distant boy, relegated to the world of Columbus and Westerville, far from Lima. But if Patrick was  _Blaine_ … Kurt felt like he still wasn't seeing the whole puzzle, like he'd lost all the edge pieces and the middle was just half-formed.

Puck looked like he might panic, himself, for a moment, but then he sat up on the bed and took both Blaine's hands in his, with a determined frown. "Hey. It's okay. You... you met him at the coffee shop, right? In Columbus." Then he paused, and his frown disappeared. "Hey - does that mean you play guitar?"

"Yeah," Blaine said, directing his gaze across Puck's shoulder, apparently not quite able to look him in the eye. "I play guitar. Did he tell you about the band?"

"Totally, man. That's... wow." Puck probed his downcast eyes for more. "You're really  _Patrick?_ But that means you... and Finn..." He blinked. Kurt could almost see each layer of awareness peel away as he watched Puck's face. Finn disciplined Patrick, and to hear Finn tell about it, Patrick needed it more intensely than either of them ever had. Patrick knew Carl. Patrick had -  _holy shit -_  been to Carl's  _office._

Patrick -  _Blaine -_  was  _Finn's boy._

Blaine's eyes slipped back to the floor. "Yeah," he whispered again.

Kurt could feel all the weird energy falling off of both Blaine and Puck in waves. God, he wanted to turn and run, because the news was an awful lot for him to take in as well, but his boys needed him to pull it together.

 _His boys_. Where the hell had  _that_  come from?

He gathered all of his courage and firmed up his voice. "Blaine."

Blaine lifted his eyes and met Kurt's, wide and startled.

"Thank you for being honest. This is, well... kind of a shock, but everything is going to be fine." He knew he was trying to tell himself as well as Puck and Blaine, and luckily, it seemed to be working. Puck's posture on the bed was more relaxed, and Blaine wasn't visibly shaking anymore.

"I'm having a little trouble with it myself," Blaine said, and he actually gave them a little smile.

Puck moved in closer, slipping an arm around his waist, and Kurt watched the tension fall away as Blaine folded into Puck's body. It was hardly a conscious movement, but the way the two of them fit together was eerily familiar.

 _It's like the way Adam and Noah fit,_  he thought.  _Only now it's Noah who's doing the holding._  It made Kurt ache to see it, but he tried his best to set the envy aside.  _As long as they get what they need, why does it matter who they get it from?_

"I guess that answers one question I had," Puck murmured, brushing his lips over the skin of Blaine's cheek. Kurt saw Blaine shiver. "In the club, about... what you might want." He laughed. "Guess you were getting it all along, huh?"

"No! I - no, I wasn't!" Blaine jerked back, staring at Puck. "I had no idea about any of this stuff then. Finn had to walk me through it... he didn't even say anything until he -" Blaine cut off, biting his lip, and glanced at Kurt.

"It's all right, Blaine," Kurt said, trying to make his shaky voice as soothing as possible. He wanted to touch him, to surround him on the other side, to give Blaine the comfort he so clearly needed, but something held him back. He stuck with his words. "We don't have any secrets from Finn. This wasn't a secret, it was private between the two of you. Now he's given you permission to tell us. You can say anything you want."

Blaine's nod was slow, but he relaxed again, putting his head back on Puck's chest. Puck clearly loved it.

 _They belong together,_  was all he could think. It wasn't even a question.

"I still feel like I have no idea what I'm even  _doing_ ," Blaine said, "and we've been doing . . .  _that_  . . . for months!"

Kurt felt some of the tension break in him then. He settled a hand on Blaine's knee and laughed. He shot a questioning look at Puck, who nodded a little. "I think we all feel like that sometimes. It's not always easy, not when things keep changing. But I guess we keep changing too, you know?"

"But... you and Finn," Puck said, his forehead furrowing, "you're not... the two of you? You're not doing anything else, are you?"

"No!" Blaine said, shaking his head emphatically. "No, I'm not - no. It's platonic." He touched Kurt's hand on his knee. "All this time, I've been dreaming about... somebody else."

"About me?" Puck's voice was almost a whisper.

"Yeah." Kurt could feel Blaine shaking again, and there was something a little defensive in his voice.

 _He's trying to tell us what we want to hear,_  he thought.  _Things may actually be platonic with Finn, but there are feelings there_.

Puck didn't seem to notice Blaine's defensiveness. He just looked somewhat stunned. Kurt didn't even need to imagine how he was feeling, it was so evident on his face, in his posture, the way he held Blaine closer to him.  _I get to have this?_  he was saying.  _This, with the boy from the club - and he wants what I want to give him?_

Kurt reached out, almost unthinking, and pulled them both into his arms.

"Yes," Kurt said in a whisper. "Yes, sweetheart. You get to have this, if that's what you both want."

He felt Blaine shudder, and swallow hard before he nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said, low and shaky. "I think . . . I think I do."

Puck just tightened his arm around Blaine, and Kurt pushed himself off the bed. "Here." He scooped Beth up from where she was nestled, warm and sleepy next to Puck. "I'll take the baby. You guys need a little time together. I'll be back in half an hour."

It felt like Blaine and Puck hardly heard him; they were already falling deep into each other, and Kurt tucked his face into the crook of Beth's neck as he closed the door. He still didn't always know what to do with her, but he really liked her clean baby powder scent. He would never tell anyone, but it usually left him with hazy memories of being a really little boy, clean and warm and safe and tucked into his big boy bed while his mom read him stories and sang him songs.

It usually made him cry.

He wasn't surprised, then, to feel tears pricking his eyes as he rounded the top of the stairs with Beth held close on his shoulder. She looked around wide-eyed at the sound of the party, and Kurt leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I know, babygirl. It's a lot of noise, but we'll both be okay." He sung to her softly as he crept down the stairs. " _You are my sunshine, my only sunshine . . ."_

* * *

Kurt moved through the crowd, past Mr. Schue and the guy playing Collins talking over bottles of beer, and slid into the kitchen. He figured it would be quieter in there; plus he'd be able to keep Beth from bothering everyone if she started to fuss.

Toby was there, ripping open bags of chips and dumping them into bowls. "Where's Puck?" he asked, nodding at Beth and popping a chip into his mouth.

"Upstairs. I'm giving him some time with Blaine."

Toby quirked an eyebrow at Kurt. "Really? That's kind of you."

Kurt shrugged. "You know that's what we do."

Toby leaned back against the counter and eyed Kurt appraisingly. "Doesn't matter. It may be what you do, but it doesn't mean that it's easy."

"I guess not," Kurt sighed. "It's not like Finn and I haven't done this, too. Had someone new."

"Still . . ." Toby let his voice trail off. "It looks like it's got you all twisted up."

Kurt shifted Beth from his right to his left shoulder, and bounced her lightly when she let out a tiny squeak. "A little, I guess." He never could hide from Toby. Most of the time, that was a comfort. Tonight it was just making him anxious because of the way Blaine had gotten under his skin. "Noah and Blaine, they met before. Well... I'm not sure  _met_  is the right word." His half laugh was a little harsh. "Collided, more like it. At that club in Dayton - Masque."

"Mmm. Will and I have been there." Toby nodded. "What happened?"

"Noah said it was just kissing, and, um... groping." Kurt felt himself blush at the thoughts of some of the dreams Puck had shared with him. "But Noah's thought about that night, about that boy, a lot since then."

"What do  _you_  think about that boy - about Blaine?" Kurt felt Toby's eyes on him, taking in his reaction. "He seems nice enough."

"He is." Kurt swallowed around the intensity of his thoughts. Blaine  _was_  nice. And cute and smart and funny. But Kurt also knew what small things Finn had told him about  _Patrick_ , and he'd seen the way Blaine had been with Puck. He'd felt his own protectiveness flare at Blaine's seemingly natural acts of submission, and he couldn't shake the idea that Blaine needed it in ways that even Puck didn't.

 _I want to be there, when he goes deep into subspace_. He shivered at the thought, at the intensity of the vision that was suddenly vivid in his head: Blaine, on his knees, willing and ready to do what any of them asked of him; Kurt taking Finn and Puck's gazes in turn and his own trembling voice echoing familiar words.  _He's so beautiful, when he's like that_.

"You okay, sugar?" Toby peered at him in concern.

"It feels . . ." He struggled to say exactly what he was thinking, mostly because he wasn't sure he really understood it all yet, but also because he didn't want to make Toby uncomfortable with too many details of the kinky parts of his life. "Um. It feels like there's a connection between Blaine and me, too, but I don't know if I can trust it yet."

"Because he's clearly half gone on Puck, huh?" Toby didn't grin as much as crinkle his eyes, and Kurt had no choice but to laugh a little.

"Yeah. God. They really are, aren't they? Gone on  _each other_." He tucked the stray corner of Beth's blanket back under her from where it had slipped loose and ran his hand through his hair.  _And now Blaine... and Finn. That's a whole third layer._ "I guess I just need to be patient. We'll figure it all out. We always do."

"I'm here, whenever you need me." Toby grabbed the forgotten bowl of chips into his hands, backing out of the kitchen. "I need to get these out there."

Kurt nodded, and tilted Beth away from his shoulder to peer at her half-closed eyes and busy mouth. "And pretty soon, we need to go interrupt your papa and his new toy, don't we, Bethie?" His voice was light, teasing, and Toby laughed outright at him.

"I'd hate to be a fly on the wall in  _that_  room," he said before heading back out into the fray. Kurt just smiled, and followed Toby out into the thick of the party, cooing at Beth as he went.

* * *

 _This is exactly the reason I bought this house,_  Toby thought, swinging through the kitchen door and back into the living room. He snapped his fingers, and Annie turned her attention away from the crumbs of chips on the floor and followed.  _So I could have parties like this. I can't blame people for enjoying themselves. Even my own fiancé._

Toby heard Will's laughter before he saw him. He definitely sounded like he'd helped himself to the beer. Maybe several. And the obnoxiously friendly guy playing Collins was  _helping himself_  to Will - and Will looked like he might be letting him. They were standing by the big stone fireplace, talking close enough that their beer bottles were clinking. Kurt followed Toby's gaze.

"Is Mr. Schue..." he said, pausing, before adding, "Does he drink?"

"Only sometimes. Rarely enough that he easily forgets what a lightweight he is." Toby huffed a laugh into the air. "You and I, we sure know how to pick 'em, don't we?" He cleared his throat as they approached Will and Darius.

Will turned to see Toby, and his smile was a little sloppy.

"Hey," he said, long and slow, taking a step toward him. "Great party."

"You look like you're having fun." Toby's voice was flat, and he looked past Will to the guy, letting his eyes do all his talking.

Darius stiffened, and acknowledged Toby's unspoken warning with a cautious nod, but his eyes were cool.  _Will's a grown man,_  Toby thought, clenching his teeth.  _He's capable of making his own decisions. Even if they're bad ones._

"Yeah," Darius said, his voice as smooth as glass. "I sure am. Thanks for having everyone out here. It's a great house."

Will stumbled a little against Toby's side. "He fell in love with it the minute he saw it. Or so he says." He was slurring his words a little, and Toby had to fight the urge to pluck the half-empty bottle out of his hands.

"Yeah, darlin,' just like the way it was with us," Toby said, giving him a little nudge. "How about I find you some water?" He glanced meaningfully at Darius.

"Let me get one for you," Darius offered smoothly, taking the cue. "Be right back."

Will wound his hands around Toby's neck.

"This is great," he said.

"You said that," replied Toby, accepting the embrace. "You're drunk."

"No," protested Will. "Just a little... you know." His hands drifted to Toby's back, but before they could reach his ass, Toby twisted away into a one-armed support, leading him to the dining room table.

"I know." Toby kissed him on his head.

"You love me, right?" Will gazed at him with tipsy adoration, and Toby sighed.

"Yeah," he said. "I do. Now stay here. And no more fucking beer, okay?"

He saw Darius coming back with two bottles of water and headed to the back porch, edging past a group of swing cast and Shelby talking with the guy playing Mark. When Shelby saw Kurt and Beth, she smiled and reached her arms out.

"Oh, come to Mama, babygirl. You weren't on your way to put her down yet, were you, Kurt?"

Toby saw Kurt's smirk, and his reply was dry. "No. Not yet."

"Good. Here, let me take her for a little while so you guys can enjoy the party. Where is Noah, anyway?" Shelby blew a raspberry into Beth's neck, and Beth gurgled in response.

"Otherwise occupied," Kurt sighed, but Shelby was already engaged with Beth, showing her off to the others in her little crowd. Toby took his hand and led him out onto the porch.

"You got your hands full with that one," he said, and Kurt looked at him, puzzled.

"Noah, Shelby, or Beth?"

"All of the above," Toby grinned. "But I know you, Kurt. You can handle it."

Toby left Kurt on the back porch and intercepted Darius in the kitchen before he could return to Will. He gave him a long, grim stare. "The two of you are gettin' to know each other real nice."

"Yeah, well. It's important for cast members to get along." Darius returned the stare. "To play on our natural chemistry."

"Just as long as  _getting along_  is all it is. My Will, he's a trusting guy. I won't stand for him getting taken advantage of, you hear me?"

Darius' face relaxed into a surprisingly appealing grin. "Yeah, I hear you. Believe me, I wouldn't do anything Will didn't want. And right now, all we're doing is talking. So unless you've got a problem with that, you can just calm the fuck down, okay?"

Toby ran an awkward hand through his hair. "Yeah," he sighed. "Okay. For now." He reached into the cooler on the floor and shoved another bottle of water at Darius. "Make sure he drinks this, and don't let him have any more beer. He's not pretty when he's drunk."

"Oh, I would disagree with that," Darius said, chuckling. "But yes. No more beer for Will. Scout's honor."

Toby watched him go with narrowed eyes.  _Somehow I don't think honorable is in your vocabulary, Darius._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sexual exploration, light D/s and masturbation. Pretty much every chapter after this, honestly, but I'll warn anyway. 
> 
> -amy

 

Blaine thought Noah's -  _Puck's_  - hands might have attention issues; they were acting like they didn't know what they wanted to do first. They started out around Blaine's shoulders, lightly stroking his rib cage, and then went up around the back of his neck, holding him close to his chest. This made Blaine shudder and press into him, which caused both of them to make noises of wanting.

"You, and me, alone in this room," Puck muttered, running his hand through Blaine's hair. "This could be... all kinds of dangerous."

Blaine leaned into the light pressure of Puck's hand. "Yeah." He shook his head. "I still can't believe you're here. That we're . . .  _here_ , you know?"

"I know." Puck's lips brushed over Blaine's jaw, moving down to his neck.

He couldn't make his words work, couldn't do anything but  _want_. He leaned in close and kissed Puck, hard.

It was like touching a match to a firecracker. Their hands were all over each other, and Puck had him pressed to the bed in seconds, swinging one leg over his hips and forcing him flat. Blaine gasped at the intensity.

"Every day," Puck said, stroking the shape of Blaine's arms, his wrists, holding him down. "Every fucking day, I dreamed about you. I wasn't even sure if what I remembered was what you really looked like, after a while. I think maybe I was just inventing you as I went. But you..." He pressed his lips to Blaine's neck and groaned. "God _,_ Blaine, you're perfect. Even better than I remembered. _"_

Blaine shook his head from side to side against the pillows, even as he arched his body against Puck's mouth. "I'm not perfect," he insisted, breathless. "I'm so messed up." Then Puck's teeth were digging into his shoulder, and Blaine's words cut off in a whine of need.

"No more than the rest of us," Puck said. "Really. We're all messed up. That doesn't mean we can't get what we need. And - fuck, Blaine, I need... I  _need..."_

Blaine shifted, letting Puck move him so that his arms were up over his head. "I need, too," he said, fighting to maintain coherent thought while he shuddered at the relentless pressure of Puck's mouth and hands. He felt Puck move away a few inches, and watched while Puck took in the way his body was stretched on the bed. His eyes were on fire, hungry. Blaine shivered.

"You like it like that, huh?" Puck's voice was low and full with desire.

"I t-think so. I m-mean, I've never-" Blaine  _hated_  that damn stammer that  _always_  came out when he was nervous. It made him feel out of control and childlike.

"You haven't..." Puck pulled away, sat back on his knees. "Haven't - had a boyfriend?"

Blaine shook his head. "No. That night, at the club? I'd only ever kissed one guy before that night."

"Oh. Fuck, really?" Puck blinked. "I know you said this was all new to you, but...  _damn._ " He took a deep breath and let Blaine's wrists go. "In that case, I think we'd better slow down."

Blaine felt disappointment wash over him, but he also understood. He didn't want to rush things too fast either. It was just so hard sometimes, especially when he wanted so very much. "I think you're right," he said softly, sitting up and straightening his shirt.

Puck reached out with one anxious hand and touched Blaine's cheek. "It's not that I don't want it, okay? I just... well, I guess I feel like you deserve for it to be good. Right. Just the way you want it." He swallowed. "I want that for you."

"Thank you." Blaine leaned into the crook of Puck's arm. "I don't always think before I do things," he admitted a little sheepishly.

"Yeah, I get it. I'm like that. But Finn . . . he helps you, right? I mean, he does with me." Puck ran his hand up and down Blaine's arm, from his wrist to where the sleeve on his t-shirt was, and Blaine felt goosebumps rising under Puck's touch.

"Yeah. He, um..." It felt so weird, being able to talk openly about what he and Finn did, especially with someone who  _knew_  what Finn could do. And thinking about what Finn might do to  _Puck..._  He shivered involuntarily. "He takes really good care of me."

Puck's arm tightened around Blaine. "He's always done that for me, too. Pretty much since I was a little kid. Not that we were doing  _that_  when we were kids..." His hand stroked down Blaine's thigh, gripping his knee gently, and Blaine couldn't resist yearning toward his hand a little, because  _god_ , it felt good to be touched like that. "But Finn's always been in charge. Or he was, until last winter... and then he met Carl, and... well, it's complicated."

"Sometimes it feels like  _everything_  is complicated." Blaine sighed. "I mean, I don't even understand half the things I think I want."

Puck turned to face Blaine, looking deep into his eyes. "But, Blaine... I could totally help you with that. I mean, I think we can help each other. All the things I've been dreaming, I want to tell you about every one of them." His fingers feathered through Blaine's curls, and Blaine had to close his eyes at the intensity of the sensation. "Teach you about them. But there's... kind of a lot, though, I'm warning you. And not all of it is particularly PG."

Blaine nodded. "That's okay. The things I want, they aren't particularly PG either."

Puck groaned. "God, yes. And trust me, that's  _not_  helping." His grip on Blaine's thigh became positively painful, and Blaine wasn't entirely sure he wanted him to stop. But Puck did, backing off a little.

Blaine shifted a little, moved barely half an inch away. "Um," he started, biting a little on his lip. "Bathroom?" Because he  _had_ to get out of the room for a minute, or else he was going to positively ravage Puck. He blushed at the thought, ducking his head and missing Puck's nod.

"Out the door, turn left, second door on the left."

"Th-thanks," Blaine stammered, moving swiftly off the bed, out the door, and down the hall.

In the soft light of the bathroom, he studied his kiss-swollen lips and slightly messy hair. His eyes were glazed, and his cheeks were pink, and he felt  _so good_. And so incredibly, completely turned on.

The upstairs was quiet, and even though he was in someone else's bathroom, he  _needed_  to get off before it became unbearable. The images floating around in his head, and the memory of Puck's grip on his thigh, the way he'd pulled his wrists tight to the bed - they all came together in one focused desire.

He unzipped his jeans and slid them down far enough on his hips to free his cock from the confines of his shorts. All he could think was  _the boy from Masque is down the hall, for real, and he wanted to do this to me,_  and that was enough to get him halfway there before he even began stroking himself.

He had to bite his own lip to keep from groaning aloud, brushing his thumb over the leaking slit of his cock and spreading slickness over the head.  _Just a little more friction..._  he closed his eyes, seeing Puck's smile, his body hovering over him, his sexy voice saying  _You like it like that, huh?_  He stroked a little faster, letting his body imagine what it might feel like if - when -

The doorknob clicked, and Blaine felt the edge of the door hit him against his shoulder. "Oh, shit! Um. Just a second," he called through the doorway. How had he forgotten to lock the damn door?

"Blaine? Everything okay?" Of  _course_  it would be Kurt.

"Y-yeah," he stammered, frantically trying to get himself put back together. Embarrassment was usually the sure-fire cure for an erection he couldn't get rid of, but not even knowing Kurt was standing in the hall seemed to help.  _Damn these skinny jeans._

"Do you need any help?"

"N-no. I'm o-okay."  _Liar_ , he thought.

"Because I think you might want to come back to the bedroom."

Blaine paused, uncertain if he was hearing what he  _thought_  he was hearing. "What?"

"Noah said you agreed to move slowly, but it seems cruel to get you all worked up and then leave you alone to take care of things." Kurt sounded like he really meant it, not at all like he was teasing, but there was  _no way_  Blaine was going out there like  _this._

"That's really...  _nice_  of you, Kurt," he said, trying to find the appropriate word for the situation, and failing. "But I... I don't think I -"

" _Blaine."_

He fell silent at the sound of Kurt's voice. No. His  _Voice._

"What do you need?"

"I - " Blaine could feel the blood rushing to his head, and staggered against the wall. He could hear Kurt, just on the other side of the door, and he put the flat of his hand there to steady himself.

"It's okay, Blaine." He sounded so kind, so soothing, that Blaine nearly fell apart right there. "Noah needs you. And you need him. You shouldn't be afraid of that."

"O-okay," he whispered, then a little stronger, "okay. I'm... okay, I'll be right there."

 _What are you doing?_  his brain shrieked at him, but both his heart and his persistent erection were saying something different. He managed to get his jeans pulled up and zipped, barely, before walking stiffly back down the hall. Kurt was, mercifully, nowhere to be seen.

"Puck?"

Blaine paused just outside the bedroom doorway, and waited until he heard him say, "Yeah?" before pushing into the room. Puck paused in gathering up Beth's things and tucking them into a backpack. He smiled at him. "I wasn't sure if you were done with me tonight or not. We don't have to -"

"Not done," Blaine said softly. "I'm... I need..."

Puck looked him up and down, and his gaze fixed on the crotch of Blaine's skinny jeans. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat. "I think there are a lot of things you need."

"Yeah." It wasn't a scary admission, somehow, in front of Puck. He thought about Kurt standing in the hallway, saying  _Noah needs you, and you need him,_  and it made him tremble inside. He took a step forward. "I don't know how much I can do..." He heard himself laugh, an hysterical giggle, and he cut it off before it could get any worse. "I just... right now, I need... you."

Puck's smile grew softer. "You've got me. I'll take care of you, baby." He opened his arms, and beckoned, and Blaine took a deep breath before stepping into them.

It shouldn't have felt any different than it had five minutes ago, but somehow it  _was._  Blaine could feel his resistance slipping away, and he opened his mouth to Puck's talented tongue. His predominant thought, overlaying the ridiculous lust coursing through him, was  _this is what I've been missing._

Puck's voice was gentle in his ear. "Do you know what you need?"

The question made him moan aloud, and when he heard Puck moaning in response, he was suddenly, immediately on the edge of coming. Words came spilling from his mouth, quick and desperate. "I'm... I'm hard. I went in the bathroom and I... I was going to..." He took a deep breath. "But Kurt interrupted, and he thought I might... that you would rather..."

"Oh," Puck said, throaty and low. "Oh... yeah, baby, I would. I definitely would." He took Blaine's hand and guided him to the bed. "C'mon, stretch out right here."

Blaine climbed onto the mattress next to Puck. He had a sudden feeling of deja vu, accompanying a memory of Finn, holding him steady on his bed at Dalton, running a hand down his back. Finn's touch, then, and that of Puck, now - they were starting to blur together in his mind, into one overwhelming rush of desire. He wasn't at all sure anymore what was sexual and what wasn't.

 _Well, okay,_  he thought, as Puck's hazel eyes captured his.  _This is definitely sexual._ He let Puck tug him down into a kiss, their bodies bumping in all the ways they had done earlier, but now, Puck had a goal in mind, and he wasn't stopping. He pulled Blaine's shirt out from his jeans, and had the zipper down before Blaine could even gasp.

"Baby... baby..." Puck was chanting, his face splitting in an astonished smile. "You're so hard for me... let me take care of you, yeah?"

"Yeah," Blaine echoed, thrusting up into his hand, "yeah, god, yeah,  _please."_

It had to be something about Puck that did it to him, that made him not care that he was desperate and out of control. Blaine wasn't caring about limits or whether he was ready for this or not; he didn't have anything in his mind anymore other than  _please, take whatever you want from me._

He stripped off his jeans in a kind of trance. No matter how impossible this situation seemed, he had to accept it. After all, Finn had told him it was okay, and he believed him. And Kurt, he had practically led him down the hall to him, he'd said  _yes, you can have this,_ and Blaine believed him, too. And the most amazing thing was, this was  _Noah,_  the boy from the bar, the boy from his dreams, and he was here in his arms, at last.

He felt a sudden rush of panic. "You're real, right?" Blaine begged. "You're not going to disappear, are you?"

Puck smiled as he wrapped his hand around Blaine's cock. "No way, baby. It took me half a year to find you. I'm not letting you go."

After that, it was easy to let Puck handle it, to let Puck hold him tucked in tight against his body, stroking him quick and hard. He listened as Puck whispered encouraging words in his ear, so much like the ones from his own thoughts:  _so hot, baby,_ and  _god, I can't believe you're here,_ and the most impossible of all,  _you're perfect._ Hearing it in the moment of his release, with Puck's hand around him, he was almost able to believe it.

* * *

Blaine's limbs felt heavy, and even though he'd been drowsing with his head on Noah's chest for a while, he knew that if he crawled under the blankets he would probably sleep through till the morning. Even so, when someone knocked on the door he sat up, suddenly wide awake.

"It's open," Noah called.

Blaine watched someone wave Beth's tiny hand. "Papa, I'm tired," came a squeaky falsetto, but it was a woman's voice.

Puck immediately hopped down from the bed and opened the door to Shelby's broad smile. "Sorry, Shel, I thought Kurt had her."

"It's a little loud downstairs. She keeps startling awake every time somebody laughs or bursts into song. You know how actors are." She peered at the bed, her eyes narrowing as she noticed who was there. "Oh, hey, I didn't realize you had company."

"Should I - I can go," said Blaine, and Puck shook his head emphatically as he gathered the baby to his chest.

"You stay right where you are. Shel, tell Kurt we'll be down in a little bit. If she stays asleep up here, I'll just bring the monitor down when we come."

Shelby didn't seem uncomfortable at all about the nearly naked boy in Puck's bed. She just smirked at Puck and watched him settle the baby with a few practiced pats. "I'm in my usual room. Come wake me up if you want me to take her."

Puck nestled the baby into the warm space between them on the bed as he climbed back in. "Isn't this dangerous?" Blaine asked, frowning. "I thought you weren't supposed to have a baby in your bed with you."

Puck shook his head. "The first five weeks of her life, I was learning how to take care of her. I had a whole bunch of people helping me figure it out. My Ma's... not around anymore, and Beth's birth mother, she gave her up... so Beth's mine now. Well, mine and Shelby's. Anyway, Lydia said it was safe as long as we weren't drinking and if the bed was flat, with no blankets over her face." He tucked Beth's swaddling blanket closer around her chin. "Most nights, this is how we'd sleep with her."

"You and... Shelby?" Blaine guessed.

Puck choked on a laugh. "Uh.  _No._  Me and Shelby, we're not sleeping together or anything. I mean, I guess she's hot and all." He shrugged. "She's Beth's mama. I'm her Papa. And... well, there's another guy." His face colored. "He calls himself Daddum. God, that sounds really dorky, saying it out loud. He stayed with me for the last couple weeks after she was born, helping me take care of her."

Blaine shifted, reached across Beth to rest his hand on Puck's chest. There was a tattoo there, a small one, a dotted triplet note, with an accent and a fermata. It was just like the one Finn had on his own chest. It made Blaine smile.

"It's sweet," he said. "It's _nice,_  that Beth has all these people who love her. I mean, it's kind of unconventional, I guess." He thought about Jeff from school, off to stay with his sister and her two partners in New Mexico. "But it's not bad; just different."

"I'm glad you think so." Puck's grin softened into a smile. He put his own hand on top of Blaine's, on his own chest. "It matters to me, that you're okay with all of this. My life, it's kind of crazy, but... Blaine, you and Finn... you in my dreams... you're kind of already part of it." He clutched Blaine closer, pulling him in to settle against him. Blaine could feel him shaking. "And you're  _here_. Sometimes I was sure I'd made you up."

Blaine stroked his hand slowly down Puck's arm. "I-I know. But we're both real boys, and we're  _here_ , and you made me-  _god_ , you made me  _come_ ," he whispered. He spared a glance at Beth who was sound asleep, her tiny mouth making little sucking motions at the air.

Puck snorted with laughter as he scooped up the baby, settling her into the crib next to the bed. "She can't hear you, man, and she sure doesn't understand any of that. You won't scar Beth by talking about me making you come." He returned to the bed, kissing his neck. Blaine felt Puck's warm breath on his skin. "Did you like that... baby?"

"Yes," Blaine gasped, and his heart flip-flopped as much at the word as the action. He tipped his head back further to give Puck better access, and tried not to think about the times he'd thought he'd heard the same endearment left unsaid in Finn's voice. "You're  _really_  good at that."

Puck's chuckle made him shiver all over. "Yeah... that's what I'm here for. To make it good for you." He took Blaine's hand and slid it further down his chest, onto his stomach, and lower. Blaine felt the heat of Puck's erection through his jeans, and he tried to keep breathing. "So many things I've dreamed about doing to you... god, every night, Blaine."

"R-really?" Blaine wanted to touch, wanted to make Puck feel as good as he'd made Blaine feel, but he was unsure about what to do.

"Really.  _Every_  night." Puck nibbled the edge of Blaine's ear. "Holding you down,  _fucking_ you, making you  _come_."

His words made Blaine's skin burn and his body shudder. "Oh,  _god_ ," he said, and he was immediately hard again and wanting. He leaned his forehead against Puck's chest. "You have to stop talking, or I'm gonna- again. And you haven't at all, which really doesn't seem fair, but I don't- I don't know what to  _do_. And dammit, I'm babbling again like a fu- um. A freaking idiot."

"Hey. Dude. It's okay. Relax." Puck grabbed at Blaine's wrist. The pressure made his head go a little swimmy, and he stilled almost instantly, all of his words gone. Puck sucked in a breath, but he didn't let Blaine's wrist go. His other hand came up to cup Blaine's throat in a firm grip. "That's... fuck, that's hot. You know just what you want, don't you?"

"Yes," Blaine said, barely able to speak. "Want... need."

"Yeah." Puck's eyes were dark with desire, and Blaine felt him, hot as steel against his thigh. "I know I said I wanted to go slowly, but... man, it's not easy. I could take you right here, on this bed, take you apart... piece by piece..."

His hand slid around to cup Blaine's head from behind, tipping his chin back far enough to give himself access to Blaine's neck. He kissed him, gently at first, then more hungrily, leaving wet, tingling marks on his skin. It felt so good, and Blaine just wanted to lose himself in it, in the feel of Puck against him and around him.

Puck's eyes were dark and intense, focused directly on him. "You're mine," he growled.

Blaine sat up before he could even think about what he was doing.

"No," he said with a desperate, frantic shake of his head. " _No,_ I'm - I'm  _Finn's."_  The words were like echoes in his ears.

Puck stared at him, his breath uneven. Then he laughed. It sounded a little bitter, and a little surprised, but as Blaine turned away, Puck took him in his arms again and gathered him to his chest, holding him securely.

"Of course," he said quietly. "Yeah. I mean, it's about time  _he_  got something that I wanted." Blaine felt more than heard his soft sigh, and Puck's lips pressed gently to his forehead. "It's okay. Don't worry. You're fine."

"Are you sure? Because it feels like it's kind of . . . rude? I mean, interrupting you because there's this other guy?"

Puck chuckled. "Blaine, this  _other guy_... he's my best friend. Way more than that. I've been in love with him since I was a kid. He freaking  _owns_  me. Trust me, I know just how it feels to listen to him, to hear him, and to want to do exactly what he says." He pulled away, holding Blaine at arm's length, and gazed down into his eyes. "You guys talked about this, right? He knows who I am? That you're the boy from the club?"

"Yeah," Blaine sighed, feeling shaky. The energy was threatening to consume him, and he didn't know what to do.

Puck touched his face, more gently than Blaine would have expected from him. "Then he knows how much I want this with you. It's okay. Whatever  _you_  want, it's okay."

Blaine leaned into the pressure of Puck's hand. He was aching for Puck, but not just for sex. It was all mixed up, because it felt like Puck was offering him the things that had woken him from dreams so much in the spring, that combination of dominance and sex that he was discovering he craved. But he was  _Finn's_ , and as much as his body  _wanted_  Puck, he  _needed_  Finn.

"I want...  _so much,"_  he said faintly. "But this is all going so fast. I... I just don't know."

Puck nodded, and when he leaned in to kiss Blaine, it was careful, almost chaste. "That's okay, baby. Like I said, I waited seven months for you. I can wait a little longer." He managed to dig into his too-tight pants pocket and retrieve his phone. "You want to talk to Finn about this? We can give him a call."

Blaine wanted to say no, because he wanted to be able to handle himself, handle his own mind and body, but he just  _couldn't_  right then. "Yeah," he said, closing his eyes. "Please. Call Finn."

"Hey." Puck's voice was so kind, he could barely stand it. He gave Blaine a squeeze. "He's  _my_  Top, too, you know. He usually knows what to do. I bet he can help us both."

"That would be... good."

Puck smiled and dialed the phone, leaning over to check on Beth, who seemed to be sound asleep, in the process. "Hey," he said into the phone. "You still awake? Yeah, that homework can wait. I've got somebody here who really needs to talk to you. Hang on." He passed it over to Blaine, who stared at it like it might do something dangerous. "Here. Just tell him what you told me."

" _What's going on?"_  Finn sounded irritated and a little suspicious.  _"Who is this?"_

"I- I don't know what to  _do_ ," Blaine whined.

" _Blaine!"_ Finn exclaimed, and Blaine almost startled.  _"What happened?"_

"We were- N-Noah and I were, um. Making out. And I freaked a little, and he g-grabbed my wrist, and it was like it was in Carl's office, and I wanted to- to-"

"Oh," Blaine heard Puck murmur, blinking at him. "Holy shit, you've been to Carl's office?"

" _Blaine,"_  said Finn.  _"Listen to me. Can you take a deep breath?"_

"Ye-es," Blaine said, and he focused on letting out the breath he was holding, and taking another one. Then a second and a third.

" _Good boy,"_ Finn said, and immediately Blaine felt half the tension in his body ease.  _"Keep doing that. You're doing fine."_ Blaine heard him take his own deep breath.  _"You're okay, with Puck? Things feel safe?"_

"Yeah, I'm okay. It's not  _that_ , it's just- I  _wanted_  things, with him. Things I promised I'd only do with you, because I'm  _yours._ " He tucked the phone a little closer into himself and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I miss you," he choked out, and there were tears in his eyes.

" _Blaine..."_ Finn whispered back.

Puck let out a long sigh as he moved to lie down behind Blaine on the bed, holding him like a spoon. Blaine tried to fight against the relentless pressure of Puck's arms and body, but Puck just held tighter and Blaine finally just gave in. When he really stopped and listened to Finn breathing on the other end of the phone, felt Puck holding him, he shuddered and let go just a fraction more.

" _That's right,"_  Finn said.  _"It's okay. I can be there at Toby's in less than two hours. You want me to come down?"_

"Please," Blaine answered with a tiny whimper.

Puck increased the pressure around him, whispering, "That's it, baby, you'll be all right," just as Finn said into his other ear,  _"All right, I'm on my way. And Blaine, it's okay, whatever you want with Puck. I trust him. He - you're important to him. And... to me."_

"Okay," Blaine sighed. The words were reassuring, but he still felt adrift, unsettled. He took the phone away from his ear and handed it back to Puck. Then he closed his eyes and focused on calming his own racing heart, and the solid feeling of Puck, keeping him safe.

Puck set the phone down after a few more moments of quiet conversation. He kissed Blaine's ear. "He said I should sing with you. That it'd calm you down. Can you sit up here, next to me, while I get my guitar out?"

"Yeah." After the conversation, he was both more worked up and more calm than he'd been before lying down with Puck. Seated there against the wall with his guitar in his lap, Puck's erection was obvious, tenting out his baggy jeans. It made him dizzy to realize not only was he  _allowed_  to stare as openly at Puck's body as he wanted, but all the  _other_ things he wanted, they were all within his reach.  _He wants to do everything,_  he thought, and shivered.  _With me._ _ **To**_ _me. God._  He let out a breath. "Yeah, that would be a good idea. What do you like to sing?"

Puck was already strumming, picking a gentle rhythm on the strings. "Finn told me Patrick likes the Indigo Girls. That's my kind of music. But he also said you sing with your own glee club, at your school."

Blaine watched his fingers, impressed with Puck's obvious skill. Those fingers had touched him, had stroked him and gripped his neck and — he laughed. "Yeah, Patrick sings the quiet stuff, but… I don't know, I'm not feeling particularly quiet tonight."

The chord progression reminded him of something. It was that new Katy Perry acoustic track Finn had sent him. He hummed the tune. Under his breath, he sang:

_You think I'm pretty  
_ _Without any makeup on…_

Puck stopped the strings with the flat of his hand. He was staring at Blaine, eyes wide.

"How do you know  _that_  song?" he demanded.

"Finn," Blaine stammered, "he, I mean, he sent me a track — it was just a demo, but he knows I like Katy Perry, and —"

Puck burst out laughing. Blaine shot a glance over at Beth, but she wasn't moving an inch.

"Lemme guess," Puck said. "There was a guy singing with her on that track."

"A guy, yes." Blaine furrowed his brow at Puck. "What do you —"

And then Puck was singing, liquid and warm and sweet enough to make Blaine melt into a puddle, right on the bed:

_You think I'm funny  
_ _When I tell the punchline wrong…_

"Oh my  _god,"_  Blaine gasped. "That was — that was  _you?_  But how did you end up singing with  _Katy Perry?"_

"Would you believe me if I said that was nothing compared to the  _other_  people we've sung with?" Puck was smirking now. It infuriated Blaine a little, in his agitated state, and he crossed his arms.

"Go on," Blaine said. "Play the rest."

Puck obliged, watching with obvious delight as Blaine sang the rest of the lyrics:

_I know you get me  
_ _So I let my walls come down, down  
_ _Before you met me  
_ _I was all right but things  
_ _Were kinda heavy  
_ _You brought me to life  
_ _Now every February  
_ _You'll be my Valentine, Valentine_

On the chorus, Puck sang the same quiet harmony Blaine had heard on the recording. Blaine just drank him in, watching him play, his light voice blending with his own.

_Let's go all the way tonight  
_ _No regrets, just love  
_ _We can dance, until we die  
_ _You and I will be young forever_

_You make me feel  
_ _Feel like I'm living a teenage dream  
_ _The way you turn me on  
_ _I can't sleep, let's run away and  
_ _Don't ever look back,  
_ _Don't ever look back_

_My heart stops  
_ _When you look at me  
_ _Just one touch  
_ _Now baby I believe  
_ _This is real  
_ _So take a chance and  
_ _Don't ever look back,  
_ _Don't ever look back_

_We drove to Cali  
_ _And got drunk on the beach  
_ _Got a motel and  
_ _Built a fort out of sheets  
_ _I finally found you  
_ _My missing puzzle piece  
_ _I'm complete_

Puck was shaking his head when Blaine sang those lines. He was smiling, but when Blaine realized Puck was  _crying,_  too, he stopped.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately, "I didn't want to —"

"No, baby," Puck interrupted. He put a hand on Blaine's knee. "No, it's cool. It's just… fucking unbelievable, hearing you sing those lyrics that Katy wrote about Finn."

Blaine caught his breath. "Really? That song is about  _Finn?_ "

"Really. And — if I'm gonna be honest, it's kind of about you, too."

They both laughed, looking into one another's eyes, but when the laugh died away, Blaine found himself crawling across the bed into Puck's lap, kissing him more passionately than he realized he was capable of doing with another boy. Puck didn't hesitate; he shifted the guitar off onto the thin braided rug on the floor, wrapping Blaine back up in his arms, pulling him on top of him.

It felt so  _good._  It wasn't the immediate relaxation he'd always experienced in Finn's arms; there was too much sexual energy and want and drive behind the way Puck was touching him, and the way he was touching back.

"I want," he said, feeling breathless, "I want to —" He made a tentative thrust with his hips, grinding his half-hard erection against Puck's hip, and loving his strangled cry. "To help you. The way you helped me."

"Yeah?" Puck held him firm by the hips, thrusting back. They both groaned this time. "Fuck, yeah, I'd really love that."

 _Only I don't know what I'm doing,_  he wanted to say. But he didn't feel panicked or stupid when Puck reached down and unzipped his jeans, wiggling out of them.  _Commando,_  Blaine thought, his brain nearly short-circuiting, and reached for Puck's cock before he could stop to think any further.

"That's so good, baby. Here, you can lie down right here." He offered his arm, sliding it around Blaine's shoulders as he settled in against Puck, hesitantly grinding against him as he watched Puck's face. "Yeah, I like that. You keep doing that, you'll get me off."

He had to gulp at that idea, but it didn't deter him from doing his very best to make it good for Puck. He did seem to be enjoying it, tensing against Blaine as his hand stroked, thrusting into Blaine's hand, his breath coming short. It was so, so hot. Blaine wasn't exactly sure how to deal with that, but Puck didn't seem to be objecting, so he kept up the rhythmic grinding until he realized he was in imminent danger of coming in his jeans.

"Not — I don't usually — twice, like this," he gasped, but Puck just rolled into him, putting pressure on his body in exactly the way that made him go boneless. He cried out as Puck managed to get a hand under his waistband, giving him barely enough time to adjust before he was leaning over him, kissing him hard and stroking him off. Blaine could hardly squeak out an, "Oh god, oh," as Puck thrust against his hip, hard enough to make him flinch.

"You ready?" Puck murmured, hot and breathless in his ear. "Fuck. You've done this so many times in my imagination and it was  _never_  this hot… Blaine, you're so fucking  _hot,_ I can't believe it."

"God." Blaine sobbed, and snapped his hips up, feeling himself spill again over Puck's jerking fist. Puck ground into him once, twice more, and he was done, coming hard on Blaine's stomach.

They clutched at one another, Blaine's hands on Puck's back, his hair, around his neck, and hid from the world against Puck's chest. He became aware Puck's own sobs mixed with his own, and his heart broke a little to hear them.

"Please don't cry, Noah, please, this is so amazing, I can't even tell you."

"No, it's good, it's good," Puck assured him through his tears. He wasn't letting go, neither of Blaine with one arm nor of Blaine's cock with his other hand. "You're here, that's all. That's enough."

"I really  _want_  to be here," Blaine insisted. "This is — I'm so  _happy._  I'm so, so happy."

"Baby." Blaine shuddered in Puck's arms as Puck kissed him. "Yeah. Can we just stay right here until Finn gets here? You can fall asleep if you want to, I'll wake you up."

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

Puck chuckled even as he yawned. "Yeah, I never could sleep while I was waiting for Finn either."

Blaine turned his head, causing Puck to kiss him again. "You're really okay with that? With me being Finn's boy?"

"Okay?" Puck shook his head, grinning. "I'm glad to meet Patrick, finally. I didn't exactly expect to be coming all over his gorgeous abs the night we met, but… I've never gone particularly slowly before. So what the fuck?"

That made Blaine laugh. "You were funny at Masque, too."

Puck's eyes sparkled. "I was trying to impress you."

"Yeah," he agreed. "It totally worked. And… honestly? The arms didn't hurt."

Puck held up one arm, curling his bicep to make it pop, then smiled, running an admiring finger along the curve of Blaine's muscle before he kissed him on his tear-streaked cheek. "Yours aren't so bad either."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A super long chapter tonight, because tomorrow's will be very short. Tonight, you get Puck/Blaine/Kurt sexing and Finn/Blaine D/s. I hear your comments that you feel bad for Kurt, but I think you'll be okay with the way it all comes out in the end. 
> 
> -amy

 

"I don't know how they can have so much energy for dancin' all day and still be awake enough to party at night," Toby said, stretching his legs from the couch to the coffee table. He scratched Annie's head absently with one hand. "But then, I'm still awake, myself, so I don't think I'm really one to talk."

Kurt elbowed Toby teasingly in the ribs. "You must be turning into an old man," he taunted. "Soon you'll be going to bed before midnight!" He slapped his hands to his cheeks in mock horror, and Toby smacked him gently on the shoulder.

"Shut up. I'm not  _old_ , I just had to get up so much earlier than I like this morning. And it was a busy day."

Kurt stifled a yawn. "Understatement," he mumbled, and rubbed at his eyes before checking his watch. Noah and Blaine still hadn't come downstairs. He figured they were occupied, and he didn't want to interrupt them.

"You could go upstairs and sleep," Toby said gently. It wasn't a reprimand, and Kurt knew it, so it was easy to shake his head.

"I'm too worked up for that. If I didn't think I would trip and break my neck, I'd go out to the carriage house and dance it out."

He still wasn't anywhere as good as Mike or Brittany, but Toby had taught him a lot of ballet, and he'd discovered he not only liked it, but that it met some need in him. When he was stressed out, more than yoga or cheerleading or anything else he'd ever done — other than Adam, tying him up with ropes — he came out calmed and relaxed.

Toby nodded understanding. "Tomorrow, sugar. We'll get up in the early afternoon and do some work at the barre, you and me."

Kurt rested his head against the back of the couch and watched the others dancing, and he was feeling more than a little sleepy when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

_Outside, let me in!_

He blinked, because the text was from Finn, and that didn't make a lot of sense.

"Apparently Finn is... here?" He stood, moving toward the door, and shrugged at Toby. "I have no idea."

"Well, don't make that boy stand out there in the dark. Go on. I'm sure I'll still be here when you get back." He waggled his fingers at Kurt. "Just don't be too loud, okay?"

"I don't think you have anything to worry about." Kurt backed carefully through the crowd to the door, and opened it on Finn. "What're you doing here?"

Finn looked exhausted, and more than a little stressed, but he smiled and opened his arms to Kurt. "Thanks," he said, hugging him briefly before letting go. "Um... Puck called me. About… Blaine." He laughed uncertainly. "It's so strange to call him that in front of you. To think you've  _met_  him."

"I have," Kurt agreed.  _And he's wonderful._ He put on a brave face. "Did he call you? What's going on?"

"He's kind of... well, he needs..." Finn glanced around at the other party-goers. "You know."

"I do know. It's been… kind of a big and busy day for all of us? And there was a lot of new stuff happening for Blaine, especially." Kurt took Finn's hand and led him through the throngs of people. He saw Toby offer a little wave from the sofa, and Finn returned it with a smile.

Kurt wasn't really sure how to bring up all the things that had happened that evening with Blaine, but he figured they could all wait until morning. Finn was already gazing at the staircase, looking anxiously around himself.  _Patrick,_  Kurt thought, sighing to himself, and gave Finn a little push.

"Go on. He's upstairs with Noah on the third floor. I'll find someplace else to sleep tonight, and we can talk over breakfast."

Finn barely paused in his haste to climb the staircase to the third floor, but he caught Kurt's eye from the landing. "As soon as he's asleep, I'm coming to find you."

"You don't need to do that, I'm fine." Kurt gripped the banister with one hand and put on a resolute smile, which was sort of futile since Finn saw through it every time.

"Yeah, baby, I'm sure." Finn gave him his crooked smile in return. "Don't worry. I'm going to make sure you get what you need."

"I know you will," Kurt said in a whisper. "You always do. I'll be on the couch with Toby. Try to keep it down, okay? We don't want to scare the natives." He let his eyes dart around the crowd, wondering what they all would think if they knew what they were up to.

"Trust me, we're pros at being quiet, after all semester at Dalton." Finn was practically dancing in his effort to hold still, and Kurt waved him away with a tired hand. He watched Finn disappear upstairs, surrounded by party guests, and tried desperately not to feel alone.

* * *

Regardless of what he'd said, Blaine had almost fallen asleep in Puck's arms when he heard the door open.

"Hey," Finn whispered.

At the sound of his voice, Blaine's eyes shot open. "Finn."

He wanted to climb right off the bed and into Finn's arms, but Puck was still holding him tight. Finn took in his prone form, Puck's embrace, and the sleeping baby, and tiptoed around to the other side of the king-sized bed, taking only a moment to kick his sandals off before climbing right in and wrapping his arms around them both.

"You're all right," Finn murmured, over and over. "I've got you, I'm right here, you're okay. It's going to be fine."

"Need you," Blaine said, shifting his body, seeking more contact from Finn. He was desperate for it.

Finn groaned softly to himself, running his hand through Blaine's hair. "You've got me. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry." Blaine moved his head, searching out more pressure from Finn's hand. He could feel the tension building up his spine, curling in waves down his legs to his toes. "I- I- I need --"

"Shhh," Finn hushed. "I know what you need, and I'm going to give it to you. Do you want Puck to stay, or would you rather we did this alone?"

Blaine felt lost and utterly incapable of making that choice. He didn't want to disappoint Puck, and he didn't want to disappoint Finn, but more than anything he just wanted to release some of the tension that was making him crazy. If getting that meant he had to have Puck in the room, he'd just have to deal, wouldn't he?

"I don't know," he whispered.

Finn's hand felt  _so_  good against the back of his neck, and as it traced a path down Blaine's back toward his bottom, he shuddered, anticipating more. "Okay. Puck - I think it's better we be alone for this one. You go check on Kurt. I'm worried about him."

"Yeah, okay," Puck agreed, disentangling himself from Finn's and Blaine's arms. "I'm going to take Beth back to Shelby."

"Good. I'll come find you guys when we're done here?" Finn reached up and touched Puck's jaw, and drew him in for a kiss. That was way hotter than Blaine had expected. They exchanged a private smile and a glance that promised more, the kind of  _more_  that Puck had mentioned earlier. It was a compelling idea, but at the moment, Blaine's mind was entirely focused on one thing.

As Puck and Beth disappeared out the door, Finn turned his face toward Blaine. He saw Finn's brown, steady eyes gazing at him. There was no way he could be anything but blatantly honest.

"I didn't realize how much I was missing you," Blaine admitted. "Until tonight. Until Puck - until we -" He caught his breath that threatened to turn into a sob. "I'm sorry, I feel like I messed this up. I know you said I could, but I  _couldn't,_  I just... couldn't."

"Oh... Blaine." Finn caught him in a fierce embrace. Somehow, it eased the fire that he'd felt with Puck, and Blaine was able to take a full breath. "I should have guessed this would be more complicated for you. I should have been here to help you through it." He burrowed into the curve of Finn's shoulder, loving the familiar feel of Finn's big hand on the back of his head, holding him close. "You're such a good boy. You just want everybody to be happy. But you really don't have to do anything, okay? Right now, you get... whatever you want."

Blaine gazed up at his face. "Don't you mean what I need?"

"They might be the same thing. Are you ready to ask for what you need?"

Blaine squirmed, flickering his eyes to the wall and back to Finn. "I - I think so?"

"Blaine."

Hearing Finn say his name was wonderful torture. He bit back a moan. "I don't know how to ask for that after a day like today." Finn's hand on his hair was calming him, though, and he leaned into his touch, the weight of his body. "After everything that happened with Puck... it's all tangled up, the - the sex and the way you guys are together and - and this. With us."

"I know it's confusing." Finn spoke quietly, but he wasn't sugar-coating his words. They were firm, and Blaine found himself leaning into them, feeling the strength and support of him. "You don't have to make sense of it all tonight. Right now, all you need to do is let me handle everything. Do you think you can do that?"

Blaine breathed hard, quivering under Finn's touch on his neck. "I think so."

"I brought your collar."

That made him go still. They'd only had opportunity to use it a few times since Finn had first buckled it on him at Carl's office, before he'd gone on vacation with his family. The mention of it made him want it on him, immediately. Blaine nodded, trying to refrain from glancing around for it in desperation. Finn would have it in a safe place. He was going on, his voice a little strained.

"I wasn't sure if you would want it, here."

"If I would - what?" Blaine tried to back off, to look Finn in the face, but Finn kept him tucked against his body. "Finn, what do you mean,  _not want it?_  Because of - because of Puck?"

"Because I want you to have everything you want. I don't want to be in the way of any of it."

"You're not," Blaine begged, "please, Finn, you're not in the way. I - I  _need_  you."

He felt more than heard Finn's sigh. "Blaine, I know Puck. I know how much the boy from the bar meant to him. Now I know that's  _you._ He cares about you, or the idea of you, but more importantly, he can give you things you need. I think... I think you might not even realize what you need yet."

That was all Blaine could stand. He jerked out of Finn's embrace and planted both hands on his startled chest.

"I'm  _yours,"_ he said, feeling the panic rising up and spilling over, "and whatever else happens, that is  _not_  going to change."

Finn didn't even wait for him to be done with his sentence. He just reached up and gathered Blaine onto his chest, like a blanket on top of him, and kept him there while he shook.

"My boy," he said, so tenderly that Blaine began to cry.

Finn didn't interrupt him while he did that, just held him until his tears began to wind down. Then he sat him up, holding him there on his lap, patiently wiping Blaine's eyes like he was four.

When Blaine's eyes cleared, Finn had the collar in his hand. He touched it with one finger, feeling as always the awe and gratitude for what Finn did for him. Then he tilted his neck back, nodding as Finn wordlessly asked with his eyes, one more time, if he was ready for it.

As soon as the collar was securely buckled, Finn shifted, laying Blaine face-down over his long legs. It didn't quite feel comfortable, even after six months of regular discipline, but he moved willingly, knowing the relief that awaited him afterward.

This time, however, when Finn took down his jeans, he realized it was going to be more than obvious that he'd come in his shorts less than two hours ago. He cringed a little, feeling embarrassed on Finn's behalf, but Finn didn't make any comment, just rested his hand on Blaine's bare behind.

"Come on, now," he coaxed, running his hand up Blaine's back and down again. "You can make this so much easier if you tell me what's bothering you now."

He had to breathe through that, because even though Finn was  _so_  generous, it still felt like the biggest imposition to expect anyone to listen to his petty concerns. He knew Finn was right, though, and that helped him sort out his thoughts enough to be able to talk.

"I'm overwhelmed," he tried, and Finn's encouraging noises helped spur him on. "I'm scared that none of this is going to stick. It all feels way too good to be real. I  _never_  thought I could have a friend like Kurt, or a - a guy like Puck. Not  _ever._  And here I am suddenly with both of them, and they're both  _yours,_  and... there's no way I'm going to get to keep something this incredible."

"I think that's plenty to work with," Finn agreed. "Take a breath."

It was code for  _I'm going to spank you now,_  but it worked, and Blaine caught Finn's first sharp smack in the center of his left cheek on the exhale. He rested his head in the crook of Finn's other arm, concentrating on his breathing, letting Finn carry all the guilt and shame and everything that felt too hard to bear. Each impact thrust him a little further into the drowsy, timeless world of subspace, and he sighed in relief. The pain was entirely secondary to the calm that settled over him.

"You're so good," Finn murmured, landing one final slap. He didn't bother to try to pull up Blaine's jeans, but curled around Blaine's back, slinging one arm over Blaine's waist and trailing the other through his hair. Blaine tried to relax his breathing to match Finn's, and soon he didn't even have to try. He just drifted, warm and safe in Finn's arms.

"I missed you too, you know." Finn's voice was barely a whisper. "The reunion, it was so busy, and pretty crazy, with Puck being gone for so long. It took us a while to get back to normal with the three of us. But I still missed talking to you and being with you, like this."

"Yeah," Blaine whispered back. When he turned his head against the pillow, he could feel Finn's nose brushing his cheek. "I mean... yeah? You did?"

"I did, so much." Finn sighed quietly. "I'm so sorry about the way it was after the concert. I didn't mean to make things more confusing for you."

"You didn't."

"Don't be that way with me. You don't have to tell me what you think I want to hear."

Blaine shivered a little, despite the warmth of the night, and nestled deeper into the curve of Finn's body. "I wasn't doing that."

"It's okay if this is confusing. This is a lot of new things all at once, and... I just want you to know whatever you're feeling is all right. I'm pretty sure Kurt feels the same way." He gathered Blaine closer in his arms, holding him tight.

"It's a little confusing, but it's nothing you did. I mean," Blaine chuckled almost to himself, "I do pretty well at confusing  _myself_  most of the time. So please, don't turn it all into your fault."

"Hey, I didn't say it was my fault." Finn sounded amused. "I remember your first reaction when I told you I had two boyfriends. Three."

"And a girlfriend." Blaine couldn't help letting his own bafflement show, but it just made Finn chuckle.

"You've done so well, accepting all of it. But, I mean... check it out. All this time, you've been holding onto what happened at Masque, and now you and Puck have the chance to connect with each other. Whatever you thought you couldn't handle, I think you underestimated yourself." He nuzzled Blaine's hair. "I'm proud of you."

Blaine drew in a breath and let it go, a little shaky. "Proud of me even though I can't keep it together without you? It's only been a couple of weeks. I should have been able to handle things by myself."

Finn's hand was fast, grabbing Blaine around the wrist. "Stop that." His Voice was sharp and Blaine startled at the ferocity with which he spoke. "We talked about this at the beginning, Blaine. It's not your job to handle things. That's what  _I'm_  here for. I'm just sorry I haven't been taking care of you the right way."

Blaine turned to face Finn. "You keep apologizing, but... Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"What was it like for  _you_ , being away from me? Did it... was it hard?"

Finn stared at him for a moment, then he shook his head, laughing to himself. "I'm not sure if you want to hear the answer. It doesn't make me seem very strong."

"You're the one who told me that honesty is the most important thing, right?" He poked Finn's shin with his toes. "Right?" he half-teased.

"Okay, okay! Jeez. I'm just..." He sighed again. "I didn't like being away from you for that long. At all. Even though I've got plenty of other people to take care of, and who take care of me."

"Sure." Blaine felt his stomach flip-flop inexplicably, and he ducked his head, resting his forehead on Finn's shoulder. "You have all those people," he said softly, "but  _I_  only have you."

Finn let out a little groan. "Yeah." His arms tightened around Blaine, tight enough to make it hard for him to breathe. "Would it sound terrible if I said I was kind of glad about that?"

"No," Blaine mumbled into the fabric of Finn's t-shirt. "I'm kind of glad about that, too."

"Okay." His lips spoke the word right into Blaine's ear. "Mine."

"Yours." Blaine hummed happily and closed his eyes, feeling relaxed and safe for the first time in weeks. "Just yours."

Finn pulled back far enough to look into Blaine's eyes, obviously startled. "Still?"

"Still. I'm wearing  _your_  collar, aren't I? That's what made me freak out and call you. Puck called me  _his_ , and I'm not - I  _can't_  be. Only yours."

Finn looked like he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. His hand snuck up between the two of them, resting on Blaine's cheek, his thumb brushing gently over the curve of Blaine's jaw.

He didn't look away when his phone buzzed. Blaine felt his cheeks heat.

"Do you think you should get that?" he asked.

Finn sighed, but he reached for the phone on the nightstand, pulling it into his chest to read the screen. Blaine felt him stiffen.

"Um... Kurt thinks that I - that we should just stay here tonight. You and me. They'll sleep downstairs in the guest room."

Blaine wanted to protest, wanted to say no, that he was okay to drive home, that Finn should go and be with  _his other boys_ , but he couldn't make the words come out. They'd only slept that one night together, back when everything was new and Blaine was such a  _mess_.

He wanted this. He  _needed_  it. He couldn't refuse.

Finn was pulling away now, leaning on one elbow. "You don't have to."

"I  _want_  to," Blaine said softly. "I think-" he stopped for a moment, taking a breath and gathering his courage. "I think you want to, too."

It was hard to tell in the dim light, but Blaine thought Finn's eyes flashed something more intense before he smiled and said, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank Kurt for me?" Blaine slid back down to burrow a little under the covers, and he waited while Finn tapped out a reply before setting his phone back down. "That was very generous of him."

"Kurt can be damned generous. He knows what I need. And, apparently, what you need." He yawned, moving slowly, obviously exhausted, but still paused to help Blaine take off his jeans and pull his boxers back up. "We're both pretty lucky to have him on our side."

Blaine felt a bloom of joy in his chest.  _I'm really not alone now,_  he thought, and even though it still felt like the whole situation could disappear any second, he snuggled into Finn's arms with the memory of Puck and Kurt to carry him into sleep.

* * *

Blaine didn't dream about the boy from the bar every night, but when he did, it tended to be vivid and memorable. Tonight, however, his dreams about  _Puck_  were mixed up with other, more ephemeral dreams, a pleasant haze of laughter and warmth and more than one boy clasping his hand. There was nothing specific he could pin down to remember when he woke, but it left him smiling, too.

Waking up in Finn's arms, on the other hand, made him want to pinch himself. Blaine just lay there beside him, his head pillowed on Finn's bicep, watching him sleep for a good long while before he reached up and rested his hand on Finn's face.

Finn opened his eyes, blinking. He didn't look exactly startled to see Blaine so close, but he made a little "oh" noise. For some reason it made Blaine shiver.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi," Finn echoed. He shifted against Blaine, smiling apologetically at the press of his erection against Blaine's leg. "I'm, uh. Sorry about that."

"Happens. Normal, right?" Blaine wasn't hard, himself, not after a night like the one he'd had with Puck - although thinking about it might get him turned on pretty damn quick. "I'm not feeling embarrassed if you're not."

"No. Not feeling embarrassed." He let Blaine touch his face, his eyes fluttering shut again for a few moments. Blaine thought Finn might have fallen back asleep for a bit, but when he opened them again, his eyes were brimming with emotion.

"What  _are_  you feeling?" Blaine asked, daring.

Finn opened his mouth to speak, but his rumbling early morning voice caught on the syllables, and Blaine had lean in closer to hear. What Blaine did next wasn't premeditated, but by the time he was in the middle of it, he couldn't find a reason to feel bad about it: he pressed his lips against Finn's.

Finn didn't respond at first, but when Blaine didn't move away, he sighed and pressed back, deepening the kiss for a few thrilling seconds before breaking it off. He landed a second kiss on Blaine's cheek, and a third on his temple.

"So totally lucky," he said. It took Blaine a moment to realize Finn was answering his question.

"Yeah," Blaine agreed. "That's just what I was thinking too. It's not like everything is any less complicated, but... it feels like it doesn't matter so much. Not if I get to have this."

The words  _I wish I could wake up in your arms every day_  weren't going to come out of his mouth, but he thought Finn might see the sentiment on his face anyway. Finn gave Blaine a wistful smile.

"I have to get back to Lima for my class at ten," he said. "It's after eight already. I have to hurry if I don't want to be late. My Spanish teacher is really great, but having to go every day blows." But he hugged Blaine tightly for one more moment, and Blaine soaked up as much of Finn's care and attention as he could before letting go. He sat obediently as Finn took off his collar.

"Thank you so much for making the drive out. Can I pay for your gas or something?"

"I'm okay," Finn assured him. "But what about you? You don't have to get up yet."

Blaine cracked a huge yawn, grinning. "Yeah, I think I'm just going to get back into bed here. You don't think Toby would mind?"

Finn glanced at the door, then back at Blaine. "Or... you could go downstairs and join Puck and Kurt in their bed."

He laughed. "I - I could? Are you sure?"

"God, Blaine." Finn's smile grew. "I can't believe you're asking that question. Puck's been dreaming about you for  _months._  If you can stand not sleeping alone, they'd totally want that."

_I'd rather never sleep alone again,_  Blaine thought. Last night, in one bed with Puck and Finn together, had been incredible, even as he'd been fraught with worry and tension. To get a chance to do the same thing when he was already feeling good, and rested, and cared for...

He threw his arms around Finn one more time, making him chuckle. Finn took his hand, leading him toward the door. "Come on. I think I know which room they're in."

They tiptoed down the attic stairs to the second floor.

"Puck," Blaine murmured, getting Finn's attention. " _He_  played that song, Teenage Dream. That was him on the demo track?"

"We try to keep Katy's connection to our family kind of low-key," Finn replied. "She was on my dad's side, the Hudsons. I don't talk about it much. I just see her every couple years at the family reunion and that's about it. She used to be this gospel singer, and then she got famous and-" He realized Blaine was staring at him, and cut himself off with a chuckle. "Yeah, I guess it's weird?"

"It's amazing!" He paused, ducking in close to Finn again. "You think I could ever meet her?"

"If you come to the next family reunion in five years, yeah," said Finn. Then he looked away, coughing. "Um. That was - I didn't mean, you know..." He shrugged. "Five years is a long time away, I guess."

"Yeah," Blaine agreed. "Anything could happen. We've only known each other for six months." But the idea that Finn was thinking that far ahead, about  _him,_  made him feel warm and soft inside.

He waited while Finn peeked behind the first door, then shut it again, shaking his head. "That's Shelby and Beth. The guys must be in the one on the end. Toby's there, across the hall." He tried the next door, looking inside, and beckoned Blaine to follow him.

The room was dim and silent, the windows draped from ceiling to floor. It was even darker in there than it was in the hallway. The room smelled, in a very good way, like Puck. Blaine found himself breathing deep, and Finn chuckled quietly, watching him.

"Hey," he whispered. He turned Blaine around to face him, getting close enough for Blaine to see his serious expression. "Thank you for calling me when you needed me."

Blaine shook his head, but he couldn't look away from Finn's eyes. "I didn't. Puck suggested it."

"No, but you let him. I think next time, you'll know you can call me. That's exactly what you need to do." He hugged Blaine to his chest. "I'm proud of you."

Finn being proud of him was almost too much for Blaine to cope with at the moment, but he did his best to close his eyes and let the words sink in. When Finn let go, he looked over at the still forms under the covers on the big bed.

"Are you sure -?" he asked one more time. Finn nodded before he even finished his sentence.

"I'm sure," he said. "If you want to, join them. Be safe."

He buried his face in Finn's shirt. "I've never done that before," he said.

"I know. And you don't have to, now. But it's  _okay,_  if you decide you want to. They'll take care of you."

Blaine could have sworn Finn sounded envious, but when he looked up at Finn's face, it was just as open and giving as Blaine had ever seen it. Blaine leaned forward on his toes and kissed Finn, slowly and deliberately.

"I thought we weren't doing that," Finn whispered.

"I was wrong," Blaine whispered back. "You were right. It  _is_  about intimacy. And I want you to feel... safe, with me, too."

Finn nodded slowly, his eyes enigmatic. "As long as it feels all right to  _you."_

"God, Finn." Blaine hugged him once more. "All of this feels more  _right_  than I know what to do with."

Finn was smiling when he stepped away. "Call me later, if you have time. I'll be wrangling summer school into submission."

That idea stayed with Blaine as he watched Finn slip back into the hallway and close the door behind him. Blaine walked to the bed, close enough to see Kurt and Puck's sleeping faces on their pillows. Kurt looked impossibly beautiful, and Puck... Blaine found himself holding his breath as Puck turned over in his sleep and sighed, stretching an arm to rest over his head.

"Puck," he said, more to himself than anything, in wonder.  _Finn said I can have you. I can have you, and still belong to him. For whatever reason, he seems to think I deserve this. And Kurt, he wants to be my friend, and I_ _ **still**_ _get to have this._

He let himself cry, standing there next to the bed, for what felt like a long time. Eventually, he worked up enough courage to pull back the covers beside Puck and tuck himself underneath. He was right on the edge of the bed, but there was just enough room for him to be there and not to bother anybody. It still felt like such an imposition, but Puck's warmth and his scent and the feel of his skin drew him in little by little that before long, Blaine was nestling up beside him under his raised arm.

As soon as Puck felt him there, he brought his arm down to cradle him even closer. Blaine sucked in a startled breath as he realized Puck was naked.

"Baby," Puck murmured, turning his head. His eyes blinked sleepily, and then flew open as he realized who was there.

"Hi," Blaine said, feeling an almost impossible urge to giggle.

"Fuck." Puck smiled, reaching up a hand to touch Blaine's bare chest. "I'm in bed with... the boy from the bar. Is this a dream?"

"I - don't think so?" Blaine hesitated, wondering if it  _might_  be a dream, after all. If it was, he was going to take advantage of it. He mirrored Puck's motion, placing his hand on Puck's own chest. "Wow. You are so..."

"I think that's my line." Puck's hand went straight down Blaine's stomach toward the hem of his shorts, and paused there. "Fucking hot. You want to get rid of these?"

Blaine stifled another nervous laugh. "I - think I'm okay for now."

"Yeah. No problem. I mean, I'm not trying to get in your pants. We can just be here, together. That's really great."

Puck sounded sleepy and sincere enough that Blaine relaxed, watching his eyes droop closed again. He closed his own eyes for a moment, listening to the sound of Puck's heart, getting used to the feeling of someone other than Finn in bed with him. Puck was smaller, firmer, smoother than Finn. Touching Finn made Blaine feel secure, but touching Puck made him want to do everything they'd done last night all over again.

He edged his own hand down toward Puck's abdomen. There was no warning edge of his boxers to stop him, and when he nudged against Puck's erection, he blurted, "I'm sorry."

"No way." Puck's eyes opened again. He put his hand on top of Blaine's, drawing it down to rest loosely on top of his cock, and smiled. "You can totally do that."

Blaine glanced over at Kurt's sleeping face, feeling uncertain. "I don't... I mean, wouldn't he... that would be kind of embarrassing for Kurt to wake up and - "

"See you giving me a hand job?" Puck didn't sound like he was teasing. Blaine felt like he should be far more embarrassed than he was to be there, almost naked, in bed with two boys. Maybe the desire was bigger than the embarrassment. Maybe he trusted Kurt enough to know it would be okay. Whatever it was, Blaine let himself moan a little as he wrapped his fingers around Puck's cock. He felt Puck shift his legs, bracing his feet to push up into Blaine's hand.

"You want that?" Blaine asked. It was a ridiculous question, of course, because the evidence was right there in his palm, but Puck nodded, reaching to kiss him. Finn's kiss was fresh in his memory, but Puck's did things to his insides. By the time the kiss ended, Puck was fully awake, and Blaine was starting to reconsider removing those boxers. Then he looked over at Kurt - and he was awake too, his blue eyes steady on them.

Blaine stopped, withdrawing his hand quickly, like he'd been caught doing something forbidden. It made him feel awful.

"Blaine," Kurt said at once. "It's okay."

Blaine heard Kurt's words, and nodded, but he couldn't make himself continue touching Puck. He stayed where he was, on the edge of the bed, and wondered if he should leave.

"I'm sorry," he said again, and it was for Puck as much as for Kurt. "I know you're not mad at me, and you  _told_  me it was okay, but I guess… I still feel like it's not."

"Blaine, you can totally be here," Puck said, but Kurt touched Puck's arm, and he stopped talking. Kurt's arm was white and slender and as beautiful as his face. Blaine watched it reach over Puck's chest to rest beside his own, and then to brush against it gently.

"I know," Kurt whispered. "It's a lot to take in. We're right here, if you want to talk more about it."

Blaine swallowed. "I don't think I meant to come in here to talk."

Kurt nodded. "What did you mean to come in here to do?"

"I - I don't -  _I don't know_." He was almost whining in desperation, and Kurt's hand was immediately grasping his, holding it tight. The grasp was not around his wrist - Blaine was pretty sure he would have pulled away if it had been - but it felt secure and intentional, and Blaine found he was nothing but grateful for Kurt's directness.

"Yes, you do," Kurt said, quiet and firm. "Don't be afraid of it. You're safe here."

Blaine blinked at him, struggling with the guilt of wanting too much. He could only think of Finn and wish for his certainty, his direction, but Finn was a hundred miles away. "I t-think - I m-might...  _God._  I barely know you, either of you..."

Kurt sighed, sounding frustrated. Before Blaine knew what was happening, Kurt was sitting up, pushing the blankets back to straddle Puck. He leaned over, put both his hands on Blaine's face and kissed him.

Blaine made a startled noise into Kurt's mouth, but he kissed him back. Puck stayed back, but when he reached over and placed his own hand on Blaine's waist, Blaine felt the energy surge and redouble.

"Yeah, baby, that's it," Puck said. Blaine wasn't sure if he was talking to Kurt or to him, but it was okay. This was  _Kurt,_  Puck's and Finn's boyfriend, and Blaine just wanted to cling to him and tell him crazy things like  _thank you_  and  _I'm sorry_  and  _please, help me._

"It's okay," Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear. "You can want this. Let us... let us  _take care_  of you."

He held his breath, and when Blaine nodded slightly against his neck, Kurt moved back. As though they'd planned it, Puck knelt before him in his place.

"Tell me what you want," he said to Blaine, his voice low and forceful. He watched Kurt shiver, and felt his own tremors at Puck's commanding tone.

_Finn said it's okay,_  he reminded himself.  _Anything I want. Now I just have to figure out what that is._

"I'm not sure," he said, then shook his head. "No. That's not it. I do know, I just don't know how to ask for it."

"We won't do anything you don't want," said Kurt, "but we all need to know. It needs to be clear, because neither of us wants to hurt you, or move too fast for what you want. Do you understand?"

"I think so." Blaine nodded, and pressed his forehead against Kurt's shoulder. He let all the breath out of his lungs in a long, slow sigh. "I can't really say what I want. God, why  _can't_  I?"

Puck rubbed gentle circles on Blaine's back. "Pretty sure we know how you feel," he said. "Me and Kurt, we've been there. I'm just gonna say that everything you want is okay."

Kurt caught Blaine's gaze and held it. It was the first time Blaine had seen Kurt do that. He had the idea Kurt had wanted to be sure not to give him the wrong idea or make him uncomfortable. It made him want to kiss Kurt again, to tell him,  _no, you're fine, I want that,_  but then Kurt's hand was on Blaine's cheek, stroking his skin, and Blaine was leaning into it, shuddering and tilting his head back, and Kurt smiled, obviously pleased.

"Usually it's okay to let someone else, someone you trust, be in charge of what happens," Kurt said. "That's really okay, Blaine. It's okay to want it."

"Really?" Blaine whispered, his eyes almost closed.

"Yeah," Puck said. He edged closer, his arms wrapping around Blaine's waist and holding him tight. "Both of us know how that is, to want someone else calling the shots."

"But right now..." Kurt put his hand in the center of Blaine's chest.  _"Right now,_  you have to choose. Nobody should make this decision but you. It has to be what you want, and if this isn't the right time, or the right people... we'll all stop." He looked hard at Puck. "Right?"

"Dude," said Puck, sounding offended. "Of course."

It felt like a big idea, the way Kurt said it. It  _was_  a big idea.  _I need to choose._  Blaine felt almost paralyzed with the inability to put his feelings into words, to claim them as his own, despite his fear. And still, Kurt and Puck were there, waiting patiently, not pushing him. It made him so grateful, he leaned against Kurt's hand and kissed him back. He could sense Kurt's surprise, but when he sat back, Kurt was smiling.

"You're as good at distraction as I am," he said.

"I'm not," Blaine protested. "I just wanted you to know how much I -"

"Blaine," Kurt said again, and this time Blaine heard him put a little of that edge into his voice - the thing that made him sit up and pay attention when he heard it from Finn. Blaine's face snapped up to his. "Tell me."

"I want... I want -" He licked his lips. "I want you..."

Kurt's eyes widened.

"I want you to hold me..." Blaine looked at Puck, and reached out a hand. "... while you're inside me."

Kurt was silent for long enough that Blaine wondered if he might have crossed some kind of line.

"Is that okay?" he asked nervously.

"Yeah," Puck said, crawling back over, pulling him close, and looked over at Kurt. "Right, baby?"

"Of course," Kurt said faintly, then he swallowed and said, again, stronger this time, "Of course. Yes, honey - it's okay."

Kurt's body felt entirely different from either Puck's or Finn's, slim and straight, but he was surprisingly strong.  _He_ had that same tattoo, too, the triplet notes over his heart. Puck urged Blaine into Kurt's arms, and watched with obvious pleasure while Kurt kissed him softly. His kisses were as perfect as Kurt was himself. It didn't feel strange to be watched, and when they both kissed him at the same time, one on either side, Blaine felt more loved than he ever had.

_Loved,_  he thought hazily, shivering at Puck's fingers tugging his shorts off. It seemed impossibly soon to be using words like that, but Blaine wasn't listening to reason at the moment.

There must have been a moment of hesitation in his eyes, because Kurt jumped in to reassure him. "It's okay, Blaine. If you want to stop, just tell us."

"No. God, no. I don't want to stop." He worried at his lip a moment. "Is it... should I expect it to hurt?"

"A little, at the beginning," Kurt said. "But Noah will be gentle. And I'm here." Kurt squeezed his hand again. "You'll be okay. We'll take care of you."

* * *

Puck didn't let Blaine say any more words in response to that. Instead, he climbed on top of him, smiling at Kurt, and kissed him hard. Blaine went all wobbly when he did that. Puck  _loved_  that feeling, loved it when Finn did it to him, and to know that he could give it to  _Blaine_  was absolutely awesome. Kurt gave him a faint smile in return as he settled back against the pillows.

"Come here," Kurt said to Blaine, beckoning him in, and Blaine went, curling up against Kurt's side. He stayed there tucked right under his arm, his head against his chest. Puck was suddenly aware:  _This is how Finn feels when he sees me with Kurt._  It was entirely different from the way  _he_  felt watching Finn and Kurt together.

"If it doesn't feel awesome, you'll say something," he told Blaine, and Blaine nodded, eyes round, but not anxious. Puck ran a hand up Blaine's hip to his stomach, and nudged his legs open as he knelt between them. Kurt was handing him the bottle of lube even before he realized he wanted it, and he shot Kurt a grateful smile.

He hadn't even known Kurt  _wanted_  Blaine, not like  _this,_  but now it was pretty clear that he was enjoying himself a whole lot, even though he wasn't really doing anything - not with his hands or his cock or anything like that. But even as Puck thought that, Kurt turned his head and gave Blaine a slow, tender kiss on the cheek, and whispered, "Don't be worried. Noah's going to make this incredible for you."

Puck felt an astonishing surge of love and admiration for Kurt, at what he was putting out there. It was almost like he was right there in Blaine's head, like he knew exactly how Blaine was feeling. Maybe he did. If it had been Finn there with them, Puck wouldn't have hesitated to pause and tell Kurt exactly that, to kiss  _him_  and show him how much he loved him. But with  _Blaine -_ he didn't really know him very well yet. It might be that, if he paused to pay attention to Kurt, Blaine might feel hurt, or feel  _less than_ , and Puck wasn't going to do that to him. This, especially this first time, should be all about Blaine. He was pretty sure Kurt would understand.

Blaine's breath caught as Puck pushed his legs wide, placing careful kisses down his stomach and inner thigh. "God," Blaine moaned, and turned his head toward Kurt, seeking his mouth. Puck knew he had a long way to go before he would be ready for what he'd asked for. He also knew he needed to get him there.

"Does that feel good?" Kurt asked quietly.

"Yes - I want -" Blaine shifted his hips and closed his eyes tight.

"Don't worry," Kurt said again. "Let Noah take care of it. Just relax."

Puck stroked down Blaine's cock with one finger, listening to him respond. He figured this first time shouldn't take long, and that was cool. They had time. It was a little unreal, to be here in this bed with the boy who'd only existed in dreams for the last seven months - and for it to be with  _Kurt._

"You are so fucking hot," he said, smiling at Blaine's astonished response, and used his tongue to lick a long, wet swath from the base of his cock to the tip. He figured if he took Blaine in his mouth now, that was going to be it, so he waited.  _More first times to come,_  he thought in anticipation. It didn't matter that his own first time had been years ago, or that he and Kurt had had their own first time only months before.

Blaine's voice, lost in this kind of bliss, was almost sexier than Puck could believe. He could almost hear Blaine singing to him the night before:  _I know you get me / So I let my walls come down..._  He could hear Kurt, whispering encouragement and gentle appreciation, and he let himself get lost in the feeling and smell and taste of Blaine, spread out before him like a feast, secure in knowing Kurt would give him what he needed, too.

"Oh - oh, god, what are you  _doing?"_  Blaine sounded shocked, almost frightened, but Kurt pulled him back down against him, helping him to relax.

"That's it," Kurt urged, his eyes on Puck, and that was incredibly hot all by itself, Kurt watching him while he used his tongue to loosen Blaine. He stroked his hands down Blaine's strong legs, pushing deep, feeling him push back, each layer of muscle giving way a little at a time. "Tell me what he's doing, honey."

Blaine's voice came, faint and amazed. "He's - he's...  _inside me_... with his tongue. Oh god."

"You're close. Try again."

"Um... he's... " This time Blaine's voice was just a whisper. "He's… fucking me with his tongue."

"That's right. He's not going to stop, either." Kurt's voice was low and hypnotic. Puck could hear the way he was using it to drive Blaine closer to the edge, to help him let go of his tension and anxiety.

_He's so good,_  Puck thought, with no small measure of satisfaction and pride.  _And I'm so fucking his._

Once Kurt said that, Puck pretty much  _had_  to make Blaine come, just like that, and he reached up to touch Blaine's cock with one loose hand while he worked him open with strong thrusts of his tongue. He heard Blaine cry, "Ohmygod - ohmygod," and felt him clenching around him, felt his cock throb and pulse, felt Blaine's body thrash and buck under him. It was all he could do not to pull away just so he could watch it all happen.

_Maybe Kurt could do this for Blaine next time,_  but realized he couldn't go any further with that thought, because it would all be over for him if he did.

When Blaine finally relaxed, Puck crouched back on his heels, meeting Kurt's steady gaze with his own. He hoped Kurt could see in his eyes how much he loved him, how much being here, with the two of them, meant for him. In a lot of ways, it was like it had been with Adam - but here,  _they_ were the experienced ones, and they shared the responsibility of making it good for Blaine.

"That was so good, honey, you're incredible," Kurt was saying. He helped Blaine turn over on shaky legs and lay prone against Kurt, resting his head again in the crook of his neck. Puck ran hands up and down Blaine's back, feeling his own response at the sight of Blaine's compact, well-muscled body against Kurt's pale, slender one.

_Fuck,_  he marveled.  _How lucky am I?_ He leaned in, letting Blaine feel his arousal, and kissed his neck.

"How was that?" he asked.

"I've never - never felt -" Blaine panted, and Puck realized he was crying. Kurt's face was calm, but he put out a hand to pull Puck down next to them on the bed.

"It's all right," Kurt soothed. "We're right here. You're so good."

Blaine took a few deep breaths, and Puck felt him relaxing a fraction at a time. "Nobody's ever - that was the first -" Another breath. "Wow. Just... wow." He turned his wet, astonished eyes on Puck, and reached up to pull him down for a kiss.

Kurt stroked them both, their chests and arms and backs, while they kissed. "Take it easy."

"You made me feel..." Blaine murmured into Puck's neck. "Thank you. That was amazing."

"We're not done yet," Puck said. He felt Blaine jerk back in surprise, and chuckled. "You said you wanted me inside you."

"Uh..." Blaine blinked. "You - you were. Weren't you?"

"Mmmm," Puck said, smiling. "Yeah. Not exactly what I had in mind though." He liked the gasp that flew from Blaine's mouth. He opened the lube and spread a little on one finger, making little circles around the small of Blaine's back with the other hand. "We can stop, but... I think you're ready for more."

He waited until Blaine's tension began to ebb to dip his finger between Blaine's legs, brushing against the wet, loose pucker of his ass. Blaine moaned and twitched his hips, lifting up off of Kurt. Puck ripped open a condom and rolled it onto his cock.

Kurt's eyes were glassy, and when Puck met his gaze, he gave him a tight nod.

"He is," he said to Puck in a low voice. "He's definitely ready."

Blaine moaned again at Kurt's words, and Kurt closed his eyes, rocked by Blaine's reaction.

_Kurt - he's really into him,_  Puck realized.  _Like, this is a big deal._ He watched Kurt with concern, but Kurt was steady, and smiled at Puck when he saw him looking.

"It's okay, honey," Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear, not dropping Puck's gaze. "We've both got you. We're going to take care of you."

"Thank you," Puck heard him whisper back, and this time Puck was the one to be shaken by Blaine's response.

_He might as well have said 'sir,'_ he thought, shaking his head. It was stunning to think of someone else -- of Blaine -- calling  _him_  that. He put a little pressure on Blaine's ass, and felt him tense as he pushed one finger inside to the knuckle. Blaine cried out.

"Does it hurt?" Puck asked, low, trying not to be anxious. He was very aware of just how good it would feel, once things got moving, but he also remembered how awkward it had felt, doing it for the first time.

"Not - not exactly," Blaine said, shaking.

"Up on your knees," Puck said, with a little more force, and shivered to see Blaine jump to react. Blaine's ass, pierced by Puck's finger, hovering in the air above Kurt's slim legs - it was beyond hot. Puck let himself make his own echoing noises of desire as he worked another finger inside Blaine.

"You're going to bear down when I tell you," he said. "Don't move. Just push. You ready?" When Blaine didn't respond, he said it again, sharper. "Are you ready, Blaine?"

"Fuck,  _yes,_ " he choked out, and when Puck took his fingers out and replaced them with his cock, he called out first Puck's name, and then Kurt's, and the word  _please,_  over and over again.

He felt so incredible, so tight, and he was making those fucking sexy noises again, breathy and low and full of desire. Puck leaned in.

"I can't wait to do everything to you," he said. "Everything you want. We're going to do it  _all."_

"Yes," Blaine groaned, and Kurt tightened his arms around him as Blaine let himself go.

* * *

Kurt held Blaine in his lap, moving with him as Puck thrust into him from behind. Blaine was practically boneless, but Kurt could feel the pent-up energy under his skin. It was a feeling Kurt knew, like electricity, like he might fly apart and disappear into the universe without someone's hands or body tethering him there. He held onto Blaine to keep him grounded, even as the intensity overwhelmed his own body. For a moment, Kurt regretted telling Finn to stay with Blaine last night, because he hadn't gotten what he'd needed. He was as close as Blaine was, because he  _knew_  what it felt like to be there, with Puck, on the edge of coming.

_But it's not about you_ , he told himself desperately,  _not you not you notnotnot,_  in the heartbeat of Blaine's second release. Blaine was crying, jagged raspy sobs, and Kurt held him even though every nerve in his body was telling him to  _run_ , to  _do something_  with the pent-up need and want and the flying-apart feeling. He waited, Blaine wrapped up in his body while Puck cleaned them both and disposed of the condom, and only after Puck was back on the bed and reaching for Blaine did Kurt get up. He could hear Puck whispering nothings, endearments, into Blaine's ear as he found his clothes and put them on, ignoring his shoes.

"Where you going?" Puck asked, softly. Blaine had settled into a light sleep.

"Air," Kurt croaked. "A walk."

"Baby." Puck looked at him, long and hard. "You okay?"

Kurt didn't know how to answer that. "I am, and I'm not, and I need to figure it out in my head before we talk about it. Okay?"

Puck regarded him a little longer before nodding. "Okay."

"Rest, sweetheart. I'll just be outside." Noah's eyes were already closed, but it didn't matter. Kurt was already losing his slim grip on himself.

He was sobbing before he hit the stairs.

* * *

Toby had just settled into one of his Adirondack chairs with the Jerome Robbins biography Will had given him for his birthday when the screen door slammed and Kurt was tearing across the backyard towards the barn.

"Dammit," he scowled, and slipped his bookmark back into his place. He moved slowly, wanting to give Kurt some time to settle from whatever had sent him from the house in the first place, but when he got to the barn he was almost surprised to see Kurt, barefoot in shorts and a t-shirt working through his  _plies_  with tears streaking down his face. His breathing was rough, and Toby could see his arms shaking, but it seemed that with every movement he settled down a fraction more.

"You okay, darlin'?"

"I think the answer to that is patently clear," Kurt said, sniffling.

"What's goin' on?"  _Damn teenage boys and lust and hormones._  He didn't remember being that bad when he was seventeen. But then again, he'd still been turning tricks at seventeen, so what right did he have to judge?

Kurt turned and started his  _plies_  on the left, concentrating fiercely. "Blaine. Had sex with Noah. And me, freaking out."

_Oh._  He leaned against the barre to listen. "Talk to me, sugar."

"I wanted it." Toby watched Kurt shift from first to second position. "And it was hot. But it wasn't about me." Kurt turned into fifth position to begin his  _tendus._  "I knew that going in. It needed to be about Blaine. But I - god, Toby, is this TMI or what?"

"Don't worry about that," Toby said, waving his hand. "You know I ain't gonna judge."

"I held him when he came. And then I - I needed someone to hold  _me._  Only there wasn't anyone, and I just - I needed to  _feel my body_  again."

Toby nodded. "From what you've told me, that makes sense. You need the contact, to feel grounded after all the intensity. How's the barre workin' for you?"

Kurt stopped his  _degages_  and held out a hand; Toby could see him trembling.

"I'm not going to fall into a sobbing puddle on the floor," he said. "I suppose that's a start. But I'm still ready to crawl out of my skin."

"And talkin' to your boys, that ain't gonna help?"

He shook his head, wiping his nose with an irritated hand. "This is just about me and what I need. Finn's the only one in this state who can help, and he's already back in Lima."

Toby ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I don't want you to feel like I'm crossin' a line, darlin', but... would it be okay if I helped you?"

For a moment, Kurt stared at him like Toby had offered him a glass of sewage to drink. Toby shook his head, trying not to laugh.

"Not like  _that._  Jesus. But I have an idea. One that don't involve, er, spankin'.'

Now Kurt looked hesitant, but in the end he nodded.

"Why don't we go down to the hammock," Toby said, turning to leave the barn. He didn't have to look behind him to know that Kurt was following.

It was possible that someone who didn't know Kurt or Toby better might think there was something entirely inappropriate about letting a grown man - in particular, one who happened to be his friend but who also was engaged to his teacher - settle behind Kurt in the hammock and wrap him up tightly in his arms. But once Kurt was there,  _finally_ starting to calm down, Toby didn't care. He just felt relieved.

"The man Noah and I are dating," he told Toby once his breathing was slowed and he couldn't feel the electricity under his skin. "Out west."

"The one from Idol you can't talk about," Toby supplied. Kurt nodded, sighing.

"He did this for me. Exactly this. Well, without the hammock. And Finn does it, too. How did you know?"

"I can stop, if you'd rather," Toby said. "And I want to be clear, sugar: there's nothin' inappropriate behind any of this."

Kurt shifted, pulled a little away so that he could crane his neck and look at Toby, practically cross-eyed and almost upside down. "You know I trust you."

"It's not me, or you, that I'm worried about. It's  _other_  people. They might get the wrong idea, you sharin' this hammock with me."

Kurt laughed, and had to shift again to keep from rolling right out of the hammock. "I think I stopped worrying what other people thought a long time ago." He ticked the facts off on his fingers. "I'm in a triad with two other boys. One of them has part custody of his infant daughter, and he and I have a long distance relationship with another, older man. Among various other complicated things." He shook his head. "I'm not worried about what other people think. You and I know what's real here. I have no illusions."

"Still," Toby said gently, "you should probably be prepared for questions. You have been spending an awful lot of time here this summer."

Kurt nodded. "Yeah. Well. Anyone who's important knows it's because of the show, and Noah and Beth." He went quiet for a few minutes, and when he spoke again, his voice was thick with emotion. "Did I ever thank you for this, by the way?"

"For what?" Toby didn't particularly feel like he needed an answer, or the thanks Kurt was offering if he were being honest. His Momma would have called it "bein' neighborly," and it was one of the last pieces of his upbringing he couldn't bring himself to let go of.

"You didn't have to open your house up like this. I mean, lovestruck teenagers and a baby? Probably not how you planned to spend your vacation."

Kurt was right, but Toby was finding that he liked the company. With Will back and forth to Lima and the summer school class he'd agreed to teach before the show was on anyone's horizon, the house would have been damned empty. Toby also liked the friendship that he and Kurt were cultivating, something that wouldn't have been possible under different circumstances.

"It's been an unexpected bright spot in my summer, actually," he said, ruffling Kurt's hair fondly. "You're teaching me a lot."

"Really?" Kurt sounded surprised.

"Yeah. For instance. Your stuff, how you deal with people, noises. This sensory stuff." He waved his hand over them both.

"What about it?" Kurt sounded curious, but also a little wary.

"This friend of mine who's a therapist, I talked to her about what you deal with, what I saw when you dance. She said it sounds like you have trouble processing sensory input. It's why you need strong contact, or quiet, or darkness to calm down when you're stressed and things." Toby didn't mention the small stack of books Chris had given him, which he was picking his way through with varying degrees of success because they all talked about the problem in young children, not in a near-grown teenager. "You've developed some good coping strategies," he said instead.

"I think Finn figured it out, months ago." Toby moved so Kurt could sit up.

That was surprising. "Really."

"Yeah." Toby watched Kurt go pink from the collar of his shirt to the tips of his ears, and he could hear Kurt muttering softly under his breath something that may have been "flogger", but Toby wasn't about to ask.

The slam of the screen door made Kurt jump, and Toby craned his neck to see Blaine standing on the back porch, looking a little lost.

"I think someone might need to talk," he said, nudging Kurt's shoulder and directing his gaze to Blaine. "Don't shut him out because you're hurting and restless. He is, too."

"I know," Kurt said. He reached over and wrapped his arms around Toby's neck. "Thank you, for everything," he whispered. "For being my friend."

"No worries, sugar. You know I'm always here for you." Toby eased himself out of the hammock and stalked across the grass, waving to Blaine as he went. When he got to the steps, he saw that Blaine looked positively wrecked, a strange combination of overly confident and terrified out of his mind.

"Kurt's down in the hammock," he told Blaine, a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You should go talk with him. I'll be inside gettin' dinner ready if you need or want anythin', okay?"

Blaine just nodded mutely and started down the steps into the yard. Toby watched from the kitchen for a minute, Kurt swinging in the hammock, eyes closed and fingers trailing in the grass, and Blaine walking toward him like he was going to his execution.

* * *

"This seat taken?" Blaine approached Kurt carefully, because he was pretty sure that he'd done something wrong, something to hurt Kurt, and he needed to make it right.

"All yours," Kurt said.

Blaine tried not to toss Kurt out of the hammock as he settled into the ropes, and he waited for the hammock to stretch to accommodate him before relaxing his breath.

"I'm sorry," he said when he was there, stretched out next to Kurt, their arms touching.

"It's not - you don't -" Kurt broke off with a sigh. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Blaine." His voice was quiet, more reserved than Blaine had heard him.

"Yeah," Blaine whispered. "I kinda do. Because." He paused, thinking through his next words. "I couldn't have, you know. If you hadn't been there?"

"Yes," Kurt said, soft and slightly distant. "You could have."

"No," Blaine said, blinking tears from his eyes. "It would have been too much alone. I needed you there, just the way you were. So thank you, Kurt."

"I -" Kurt sighed again, still sad. "I wanted to. I'm glad I was."

"It still hurt you, though. And I need to know how, so I make sure not to do it again." Blaine let his fingers drift over the back of Kurt's hand, his skin warmed from the sunlight.

"It's nothing you did. It's me. Me and my  _feelings_." Blaine could feel  _something_  humming under Kurt's skin, some kind of energy or push for motion. The same feeling Blaine knew from when he wanted to fly. He nudged at Kurt's hand with his own, and waited the brief seconds it took Kurt to open his palm to Blaine's hand. Blaine laced their fingers together and gripped tightly.

"Breathing is good," he told Kurt, and waited for him to draw in and then release a breath. "Feelings? About me, Puck, or yourself?"

"Yes." Kurt let out a harsh laugh. "I choose D, all of the above."

"You told me that things were complicated with you." Blaine wanted to hold Kurt close, to soothe whatever raw edges the afternoon had caused. "You weren't kidding."

"The last thing we needed was  _more_  complicated," Kurt mumbled almost to himself, and then he turned his head and looked at Blaine for the first time since they'd been together in the hammock. "I said that out loud, didn't I?"

"Um. I could lie and tell you no?" Blaine laughed easily and he was relieved when Kurt did too.

"Crap. I'm just.  _God_. This afternoon was supposed to help me, too, and I feel like a bigger mess than I was when I got up this morning. I don't know how to make  _any_  of this better." He sounded so discouraged.

"Do you want - " Blaine bit his lip, and then pressed forward. "I'll stop seeing him. If you need me to."

"Oh, honey." Kurt shook his head with a soft sigh. "No. That's not what I meant. You - the two of you - you need each other. He's been thinking about you for months. I would never stand in the way of that. And what you have with Finn…"

"It's all important to me," he said honestly. "But I need you to know, I don't want any of this to get in the way of our friendship. Because… I know we just met? But other than this crazy girl I've known since I was a kid, and the twelve year old I babysit, I don't have too many  _real_  friends. And I think you could be one of them. An important one."

Blaine smiled at Kurt's hopeful expression. It reminded him so much of what he'd once had with Dave -- and he'd gone and blown that to hell and back when he'd left for Dalton. He couldn't lose Kurt too.

"I don't really have friends who are boys, either," Kurt said. "I've been working on that. And it feels…" He exhaled. "It feels so good."

"I know," Blaine said, feeling more open and honest than ever. "This is  _different_."

"Yeah." Kurt sighed again and looked away.

Blaine thought that the sadness might break him in pieces. He didn't think. He  _couldn't_  think, or he'd lose every bit of nerve he had left. He rolled over onto his side in the hammock and pressed his lips to Kurt's.

He'd been expecting resistance, but met none. Kurt just fell open to Blaine, relaxing into the kiss, and Blaine thought that he'd never felt  _anything_  as sweet and tender and perfect as Kurt, warm and loose against him.

Kurt's hand was gentle against Blaine's cheek, and Blaine wanted to lean into that touch. Wanted to lose himself in Kurt in a way that was different from what had happened upstairs with Puck. He could see it so clearly now. He wanted Finn to lead him, to teach him, to take care of him. He wanted Puck to make him fall apart and help put him back together again. But apparently, he was selfish enough to want  _Kurt_  as well. With Kurt, he could imagine hours and whispers and sweet exploration, just the two of them together.

He deepened the kiss and felt it down to his toes when Kurt moaned lightly.

"God, Blaine, are you trying to kill me?" Kurt's eyes were lightly glazed and his cheeks were pink, his breath coming fast and shallow. "Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

"Your boyfriend," Blaine smirked, and then laughed when Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Yours too," he said, suddenly serious. "I mean, I know he wants that. I think… you do, too?"

Blaine nodded cautiously. "But, Kurt, I…" He took a deep breath. "I want him,  _and_  I want you."

"Blaine," Kurt breathed, and Blaine hurried on.

"It's different, the way I feel about you, but… it's important," he said again. He bit his lip. "It feels like it might be the most important thing in my life."

Kurt closed his eyes, shook his head. "You - you don't know, what you're getting into. There's so much you can't understand about all of this. The others…"

Kurt's voice trailed off, and Blaine ran a tentative finger across the line of Kurt's jaw, feeling the light roughness of stubble there. He tried to explain.

"I know about the others. Well, that there  _are_  others. I don't care about them, Kurt. When Finn told me about you and Puck, I didn't really know what that meant. I didn't know he was your boyfriend. But I wanted that, with somebody. Now I think I'm starting to figure out what I need, and what I want, and how they go together. I need Finn, and I  _want_  a boyfriend. I want it with Puck - but it's not enough without you. Maybe I'm being selfish. I don't know if I deserve all this... but I do want it."

"It was like that for me, too, in the beginning." Kurt rested his head against Blaine's shoulder and laid the palm of his hand flat against Blaine's stomach. "You don't have to explain it. I  _know_. I remember."

Blaine had always liked late afternoon, especially in the summer when the day would be over and evening was like a promise. Right now, this moment with Kurt, felt like the most perfect late afternoon he'd ever experienced. He didn't want to go anywhere. "Would you tell me about it? The beginning?"

"You really want to hear that story?" Kurt sounded incredulous.

"Please." Blaine ran his finger up the back of Kurt's hand, to the crook of his elbow and back down again, just the way Puck had done with him.

Blaine didn't need to look to know that Kurt was smiling. "Would you believe me if I told you it all started with donuts?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're surprised about Holly, you haven't been paying attention to the Donutverse. I always saw her as transgender from the very first time she was on the show. I have an entire backstory about her in my head, counseling Jake and Unique and the other Glee 2.0 kids in middle school, while she goes through SRS. Maybe I'll write it someday. Anyway, this is just a little interlude before we move on with the rest of the story. 
> 
> -amy

 

Will shuffled the papers on his desk a third time until the ones he'd finished grading were as far away from himself as they could be. It didn't make the stack of unfinished ones any smaller, but at least he couldn't see the 67% marked in red pen on the top one.

" _¿Qué rollo con el hoyo,_  William?" said a voice beside the desk. Will jumped, then looked up to see Chris standing next to him. She nodded at the stack of papers. "Grades getting you down?"

He sighed. "Am I allowed to say  _they suck_  where nobody's listening?"

"Chances are your kids aren't any happier about them. Me, I'm all for gamification of the high school classroom. Students get experience points by showing up, earning badges and unlocking achievements. I've already got three who have enough for a passing grade."

"Sounds like fun," said Will, giving her a halfhearted smile. "In the meantime, I'm still stuck in the world of kids who need to be ready for American history next year and can barely write a three-paragraph essay to save their lives."

"Come on." She tugged on his sleeve. "Let's get you out of this chair before your butt fuses to it. This is a landmark day for me, and I need to buy somebody a drink."

He tucked the remaining papers into his bag and followed her out to her car, a Mini Cooper in a brilliant shade of yellow.

"I've always wanted a yellow car," he told her as he folded himself into the passenger seat.

"This is the weirdest guy magnet, I swear. I never expected it to appeal to so many men." She patted the dashboard fondly. "So where's the local watering hole?"

He gave her the address for the Landing Strip and she punched it into her GPS. "What's the occasion?"

"Let's say I finally managed to change the name on my birth certificate to one that made me happy." She accelerated quickly backward out of her spot and just as quickly changed gears, zooming forward through the empty parking lot. Will resisted grabbing onto the handle.

"First or last name?"

"First. But you can still call me Chris. I don't think I'm going to get most people to stop, not after using it for twenty-eight years."

He tucked his bag in closer by his feet. "So why'd you change it?"

"How about we slow down with the twenty questions,  _Señor_ Schuester. We've both got something to celebrate. Relax and unbutton that vest. Get a little crazy."

"Something to celebrate? You mean this?" He indicated the ring on his left hand.

"Sure, for starters. You've got a great guy, a job that pays the bills. What else you thankful for?"

Will smiled. "Getting our dog back. Toby's dog, I guess, but she's always felt like ours."

"That's too sweet for words." She beckoned for more. "What else?"

"Yesterday I auditioned for a musical, with Toby and — other people. We're doing  _RENT_  up in Cleveland."

"Fabulous," she nodded. "How's that going for you? The other people part?"

"You mean being with Toby?" he asked, feeling confused.

"I mean being  _out._  You're your own self, Will, with or without Toby. How's everybody else taking it?"

"I — they're fine? You know, it's theater. He's really nice about it."

"He?"

"I mean  _they._  Everybody."

It was strange walking with Chris through the parking lot and into the Watering Hole, seeing the approving looks on the faces of all the men and women they passed. It hadn't occurred to him that he hadn't had those looks from people in a while.

"People are smiling at us," Will murmured.

Chris nodded understanding. "Good ol' hetero privilege. People appreciate being able to put us in a comfortable box. We look like an ordinary couple to them. The truth is, of course, everybody's more complicated than that." To the bartender, she said, "Vodka gimlet."

"Jameson on the rocks," Will said. "Complicated? Yeah." He sighed, shaking his head. "You know what's really weird now? Being hit on by other men."

"Tell me about it. Perception is everything. When people think they know who you are, they think they know what you want. And when they think they know what you want, they're going to try to give it to you." She nudged his shoulder with her own. "So of course men are hitting on you. And what about you, William? You hitting back?"

"Well — no. I'm not." He shrugged, thinking about Jon, and all the men before him. "I'm with Toby."

"Again with the Toby. I'm not talking about  _him._  I'm talking about  _you."_  She stared at him until he blushed and laughed, looking away. "You know you're a good-looking guy. Other guys are going to want to hit on you. How's that feel?"

"Nice, actually," he admitted. "There's one guy in the cast. He's being pretty obvious that he likes me."

She snorted. " _Likes you._  What, is he going to invite you to the prom? He wants to get in your pants."

"Yeah. I don't think Toby was too happy about that. Which is a big double standard, considering that he's always had a history of hooking up with other guys."

"That's your agreement, then?"

"Our  _agreement_  says it's fine," said Will. "But that's not the message I was getting from him last night."

"So he's jealous. He'll get over it. He can't put you in a box any more than the world can, William." She slid her glass over and clinked it with his. "Here's to being our honest selves."

"I'll drink to that," Will agreed, raising his glass. "And to — what's your new name?"

"Holly," she said. He laughed.

" _Holly Holliday?"_

"Here's to tidings of comfort and joy," she said, her eyes twinkling. They both drank.

"So you have to tell me what was wrong with Chris," he said. "Seems like a harmless enough name."

"It's amazing the amount of baggage a name can carry when you use it your whole life," she said. "Especially when it's associated with the wrong gender pronouns."

Will shook his head. "I don't follow."

She took her driver's license out of her purse and set it down on the bar. It had the name  _Holly December Holliday_  on it. Beside it she placed an older one, worn and expired, but Will could still read the name printed across the top, under the Ohio banner.  _Christian December Holliday._  He peered at the photo of the man in the corner.

"Doesn't look much like me anymore," she said. "I'd just as soon be done with that memory."

"Oh, wow." He looked at her in amazement. "You're not kidding. I thought you were — um."

"Hmmm. Will I slap you if you say  _a real girl,_  William?" She appeared to consider this. "I think I will not."

"I'm sorry," he said, embarrassed. "I'm a little on the clueless side. Toby's sister is transgender, but I haven't met her yet."

"Yes, he told me about LeeAnne. That's real sweet." She patted his hand kindly. "I'm not trying to be a bitch about it. It's just my usual game. I have to be on the offensive, or else people will take advantage of me."

"Well, I don't want to take advantage of you. Or anything." Will handed both drivers licenses back to her with a smile. "And you're not a bitch at all… Holly."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More connections! Family schmoop! Griffin and Sabine! Implied spanking, green couch almost-sex and fucking on the floor! Singing but no dancing, sorry. 
> 
> Oh, and the haunted attic story we are actually writing, and at some point will throw out there - it explains a few things. 
> 
> -amy

 

Puck offered to let Blaine sit in the front seat on their ride to Lima, but Blaine absolutely refused.

"Finn needs the leg room way more than I do," he said, climbing in beside Beth's car seat in the back.

Kurt sat on the other side behind Puck and helped settle Beth's seat in its cradle before buckling himself in. He smiled at Blaine, taking his hand and squeezing it. "We're on baby duty if she wakes up."

"I'm up for that," Blaine said with a brave smile. "I've done a lot of babysitting."

"You babysat  _Sarah,"_  Finn said. Puck looked over at him in confusion, and Blaine laughed nervously.

"Um, that's right. I did. She and Frances were friends when I was in fifth grade, and I got a summer job babysitting both of them. When... um. Her brother was at soccer camp." Blaine blinked at Puck. "Wow. Her brother... that was  _you."_

"Hey, I remember that summer," said Finn to Puck. "I really missed you. I wrote you a letter, and you never wrote back."

"I tried!" Puck insisted. "It sucked. I could barely read what you wrote, without Meemee there to figure it out, and there was no way I was going to ask anybody else. And then, once I had..." He shrugged, starting the car. "It was time to come home."

Something in Puck's voice made Finn reach out for him, touching his hand. "Hey. What is it?"

"That's the summer Meemee left home," he said. "He was supposed to be home taking care of Sarah, while I was away, and he left her there. I didn't even think about that part until way later, I was so pissed at him for leaving in the first place. For leaving us home to deal with my dad."

"Who's Meemee?" Blaine asked, his voice polite. Kurt squeezed his hand again. Considering all the information he had to process, Blaine was really dealing with it very well.

"He's my older brother." Puck shook it off. "It was a long time ago. Just, lots of bad memories, you know?"

"It sounds like your dad wasn't exactly doing a great job." Blaine gave him a wan smile. "I can relate to that."

"Your dad's an asshole, too?"

"Not exactly. My father is very good at telling me how well I'm not measuring up to his expectations. I'm pretty sure my whole childhood was about trying to either satisfy or avoid him. I've never been able to do either very well."

"You?" Kurt said, surprised. "But you're so..."

The others looked back at him, waiting for him to finish the sentence. How could he say  _perfect_  in front of Blaine?

"It seems like parents would approve of you," he said at last. Blaine sighed.

"Not  _my_ parents," he said. "I was never good enough for them. I still don't know if that was about me or about them. Like, for example, they didn't much care for me being gay - and then my dad came out."

"No way!" Finn said, laughing. "Dude. That's kind of awesome."

"Yeah, it would have been more awesome if he hadn't continued to work so hard at telling me I wasn't doing anything right." Blaine shrugged. "What about your father, Kurt?"

"Kurt has the best dad," said Finn. "He and my mom are totally into each other."

Blaine's eyebrows went up. "Like - they're in love?"

"They're the real reason we're moving in together and building this house," said Kurt. "And they met because of us. Remember I told you about the dinner party?"

"That's right." Blaine shook his head. "Sorry, you told me a lot of things, and I think I forgot most of them already."

"That's because you guys were making out in Toby's hammock," Puck said. Blaine's face went bright red, and he looked at his lap.

"It's fine, Blaine." Kurt kicked the back of Puck's seat. "Right?"

"Totally fine," Puck said. He paused at the corner of the next street and turned to face Blaine, looking penitent. "Come on, babe, I was teasing. You guys get to do whatever you want, and it's awesome."

"I know you keep telling me that," Blaine said, in a very small voice. "I'm sorry I keep forgetting."

Puck looked over at Finn in a clear appeal. Finn turned around in his own seat, looking over the edge at Blaine. His voice was soft and gentle.

"It's not that you're forgetting. It's that you have all kinds of voices telling you what the truth is, and you don't know what to listen to." He waited while Blaine nodded, still staring at his lap. "Well, I'm going to give you one voice to listen to, and that's mine. All right?"

"Thank you," said Blaine. He sounded a little more certain.

"Do you hear me?" Finn asked, still very calm and gentle.

"Yes," Blaine said immediately. He looked up at Finn. "I hear you."

"That's good."

Kurt watched Blaine beam at Finn, and felt an odd mix of envy and satisfaction.  _Why doesn't Blaine react like that to me?_  was his initial reaction, but in the end, he decided, it didn't matter. Blaine  _did_  react that way to Finn, that much was clear. There was no question that Patrick -  _Blaine_  - was Finn's boy.

"What about your father?" Blaine asked Finn.

"I didn't really have one?" Finn said. He sounded casual, but Kurt was sure he wasn't feeling that way about it. "My birth father died in the Gulf conflict, and my mom mostly raised me alone. She had... a girlfriend when I was a baby, though."

Puck snickered. "Yeah, somebody you know."

"Somebody I know?" Blaine repeated. He leaned forward curiously when Finn sighed. "I don't know very many people that you know."

"It's Irene," said Finn. "She was my mom's... you know. Her Top."

Blaine was shocked into silence for several long moments. Kurt watched his face as he processed this news.

"But they're not still together?"

"No," Finn said. "It was a long time ago."

"So does your dad...?" Blaine asked Kurt slowly. "For Finn's mom?"

Kurt winced and waved an emphatic hand. "No.  _No._  My dad - just, no."

"He totally knows everything we do, though," Puck said. "Finn, did you tell him about what happened at Tessera with Carl and the vibrating -"

"Noah," Kurt said sharply, and he stopped. Blaine was still lost in thought, however, and didn't appear to notice.

"Do you suppose she doesn't... need that anymore?"

"I don't know." Finn sounded so uncomfortable. Kurt wanted to reach out and touch him, but he didn't want to get in Finn's way, not with Blaine right there. Witnessing them interact, their reactions to one another, would be a new experience for some time. Finn shook his head. "I try not to ask too many questions about my mom's past. I don't think she really has all the answers either."

"She's definitely into Burt, though," Puck reassured Blaine. He tucked his hand back behind his seat and reached for Blaine's free hand, and Blaine took it.

"It's hard enough to be meeting your parents," he said. "Knowing that they  _know_  the things we... do?" He squirmed. "I'm already so embarrassed."

"You've got nothing to worry about," Puck said, smiling at him. "They knew you as Patrick since Finn started going to Columbus with Carl. And now they know we're all crazy about you."

"Crazy, anyway," he mumbled, laughing. "Okay. I'm really grateful you  _wanted_  to take me home in the first place."

"Blaine, of course we do." Kurt reached out and squeezed his shoulder, and Blaine closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "You're so tense."

"I'll try not to be a spaz." He looked at Beth, sleeping between them, and his anxious face softened. "I just want to make a good impression. I mean, your dad, and Finn's  _mom..."_

"They'll love you," said Finn softly. "And we'll be there. You won't be doing this alone."

" _Remember, I'm holding the string end,"_ quoted Kurt, _"and I won't allow you to disappear into oblivion."_

Finn gave him a smile, and Puck chuckled, but Blaine just looked confused.

"When we get to my house -  _our_  house," Kurt corrected himself, "I have some books to show you. They're pretty special to me and Finn."

"Well, I'm definitely interested, then," said Blaine. He might have been exhibiting false bravado, but Kurt didn't think so.

Finn, too, seemed unusually relaxed and calm.  _This is how he is when he's in charge,_  Kurt realized.  _Really in charge, not just in the bedroom. He's completely attuned to Blaine, to everything he's doing and saying._ He felt another rush of envy, but he wasn't exactly sure if it was because he wanted to be in Blaine's place or Finn's.

"So you grew up in Lima?" Puck said. He seemed perfectly content holding Blaine's hand from the front seat. Blaine nodded.

"It's strange all of us didn't cross paths more often, really," he said. "I went to elementary school in Lima Heights, but one of my oldest friends goes to McKinley."

"Santana," Finn said.

Puck spluttered out a laugh. "Holy shit.  _Really?_ " He looked back at Blaine, who nodded again. "You guys were friends, too? She can be one mean bitch. And I say that with all affection, considering I dated her."

"Oh," Blaine said, sounding bewildered. "Um. Okay?"

"Yeah, and she and Finn and Britt did stuff that I'm still not sure if -"

"There's a long history there," Finn interjected. Under his breath, he added, "Dude."

"Hey, I didn't think we were going into this with the plan of keeping things from one another." Puck sounded a little affronted. Kurt patted him on the shoulder from the back seat.

"Nobody's hiding anything. Blaine's already feeling anxious enough. Let's not make it worse by oversharing, okay, sweetheart?"

Blaine spoke after a moment. "I know Santana isn't exactly the  _nicest_ girl. I don't have any illusions about who she is. But she's been my friend since we were in kindergarten. Sometimes she was the only person I could count on."

"I completely understand," said Kurt. "Brittany was my best friend when I was growing up. I didn't have any friends who were boys until I joined Glee club. And then, well." He laughed. "You can see how that turned out."

"You used to have a friend who was a boy," said Finn. He was looking at Blaine over his shoulder.

"Oh, did I tell you about him?" Blaine appeared even more uncomfortable. "Jeez, I never talked about him to anyone. He was so closeted, it seemed like even being my friend would have been too hard for him to deal with. When my father enrolled me in Catholic freshman year instead of letting me go to McKinley, he took it as a personal insult." He looked out the window. "Our friendship never recovered from that."

"Do you still see him at all?"

Blaine shook his head slowly. "I ran into him a few months ago, during spring break, but neither of us were willing to talk. When I went looking for him again after school got out, I couldn't find him anywhere. He and I used to hang out at the library. We both took refuge in books growing up. I think he's still hiding in his."

"You told him about  _me,"_ said Finn.

Blaine stared at him. "You - yeah, I did," he stammered. "How did you know?"

"Kurt found out he was gay by accident."

"Oh my God," Kurt whispered, feeling the shock of realization. "You're talking about Dave? Dave Karofsky is your friend?"

Now Blaine was clearly scared. "Was. You can't tell anyone, Kurt."

"No…" He shook his head to clear it, then spoke again, more strongly. "No, I won't. I promised him I wouldn't. But - Blaine, you have to know. Dave was bullying me for over a year. All of us, this year, once he found out about the three of us. It got way out of hand."

"He shoved Kurt into a locker and left him there," Puck said, his voice hard. "Slushied all of us, followed us around calling us names, making threats."

Blaine's face was pale, but he nodded. "I'm really sorry to hear about that, but… I'm not all that surprised, either. He changed."

"I'm not so sure he did," Kurt said. "He's dealing with a lot of self-hate, and he's all alone."

Blaine winced. "Yeah. That sounds about right. I'm sure it didn't help that I told him not to call me anymore. Not that we ever really called one another, but especially not after I went to Dalton."

"He had a hard year. I can say that, in retrospect. He was seeing a boy who ended up having an affair with an older man."

Blaine looked quickly up at Finn, the terror on his face passing as soon as Finn shook his head.

"That wasn't me," Finn assured him hurriedly. "Dave and I, we  _never…_ seriously. It was another guy."

"No. Okay." Blaine sighed. "Jesus. Poor Dave."

"Kurt's not letting him deal with it alone," Puck said. His voice was gruff. "He's been keeping tabs on him, talking to him. He even showed him our haunted attic."

Blaine brightened. "Oh, Kurt."

"I haven't really done anything." Kurt tried not to let himself blush as he abruptly found himself the recipient of Blane's gratitude. It was heady stuff.

"You have a haunted attic?" Blaine added curiously, after a moment.

"It's a long story. The point is, I came to the conclusion that Dave needed someone to believe in him more than he needed punishment for his past sins."

Puck laughed. "Yeah, I was in the same position, but I needed the punishment more."

"That was how we handled you," said Kurt, smiling at Puck. "But you begged for it."

"Oh, wow." Blaine sounded a little faint. He shifted on the seat, looking at Puck, then Kurt. "That's... um."

"It really was," Kurt agreed. He could see exactly how Blaine was being affected by the idea of Puck  _begging for punishment._ Watching Blaine get worked up like that wasn't really helping  _Kurt_  keep his cool. It was probably just as well that Beth was between them on the seat, or else Kurt would have had a hard time not putting his hands on some very inappropriate parts of Blaine's body. He cleared his throat. "Let's maintain our focus, here."

"No need," said Puck easily. "We're sleeping here tonight. It's totally cool, whatever we want to do in the house. But no pressure, baby. It's crowded enough on Kurt's bed with three, anyway. I'm not sure how we'd fit all four of us."

"All four of us?" Blaine's sentence ended in a squeak.

"Blaine," said Finn, using that gentle Voice. Blaine settled right down. "We have enough beds that it'll be easy for you to have your own space. There's a fold-out bed upstairs in the family room."

"That sounds good," said Blaine, exhaling.

They pulled off the highway onto Findlay, turning at the corner onto Jefferson. Kurt pointed as Puck drove past the wide bay doors, facing the street. "That's my dad's garage."

"Oh, of course!" Blaine laughed in surprise. "Your dad's the Hummel in  _Hummel Tires and Lube._ I should have made the connection after I learned your last name."

Puck parked the Navigator in the garage. Blaine climbed out of the car and walked into the yard, craning his neck to take in the surrounding neighborhood.

"This looks really familiar," he told Kurt.

"It's should, considering it's your hometown, too," Kurt replied. He lifted Beth's car seat out and handed her to Puck. Now that the car had stopped moving, she was beginning to stir. "Come on. We can take a walk up to the park later, if you want."

Kurt climbed the steps to the front door and opened it wide. Puck entered the house first, carrying Beth and his guitar. Blaine followed, more slowly, still looking around himself with mild trepidation. Finn brought up the rear, carrying their bags. He paused on the top step, touching Blaine on his back, just a brush. Kurt watched Blaine's face smooth and his lips part as he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he continued on. Kurt could easily have missed the moment, or played it off as his imagination — but he knew better than that.

"Dad?" he called, closing the door behind him. "We're here." He almost said  _we're home,_  but that felt a little heavy for bringing a boy to the house for the first time.

Carole was the first to emerge from the upstairs hallway. "I don't think I'm going to ask how fast you were driving. We didn't expect you for another half hour." She smiled, holding out her hand. "You must be Blaine."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Hudson," he said. Kurt thought Blaine's blend of earnest and formal was very endearing.

"Please, call me Carole." She gave Kurt a tight hug. "Congratulations to both of you for landing parts in  _RENT!_  That is so exciting!"

"Definitely beats Lima community theater," Kurt said, but he felt himself flushing with pleasure. "Mr. Schue and Toby and Shelby all got lead roles."

"I'm surprised Carl didn't audition - um," she said, then paused, looking awkwardly away from Finn. Finn didn't miss a beat.

"Carl has too much going on this summer to get involved in another theater production."

"It'll be a whole summer of shows, then." Carole unbuckled Beth from her car seat, cooing at her as she lifted her into her arms. "We missed you so much this week, peanut."

"With Kurt in the same show with Shelby, I'm gonna get her most of the time this summer," said Puck happily. He took Blaine's hand. "C'mon, babe, you've got to meet Burt."

"He's in the kitchen, cleaning up from lunch," Carole said.

Blaine went with him into the kitchen. For once, Puck didn't look like he was going to complain about somebody else doing his duties, which was a relief. It told Kurt that Puck was already feeling reasonably secure.

Carole looked over at Kurt, her eyes asking volumes.

"' _Babe?'"_  she repeated.

"Mom," said Finn, "he's  _the boy from the bar._  He's a big deal for Puck. I think he gets a little leeway."

She looked after him dubiously over Beth's head. "You're going to have to convince me. I mean..." She dropped her voice to a whisper. "You are still  _handling_  him, right?"

" _Mom,"_  Finn said again. This time it sounded more desperate, and definitely more embarrassed.

"Finn's handling both of them. Blaine is  _Patrick_ , after all." Kurt gave Finn a little push. "Now do we really want to leave the two of them alone in the kitchen with my dad? No, we do not."

He needn't have worried. His dad was clearly already smitten with Blaine. Kurt sat at the counter and listened, bemused, as Blaine spouted details about rebuilding cars that would have made any mechanic swoon, straight or gay. Puck just kept smiling, one arm around Blaine.

"Where's Sarah?" Finn asked at one point.

There was a little throat-clearing from the direction of Puck's room, and they all turned, startled, to see her standing in the doorway.

"Hey,  _Patrick,"_  she said. They could hear the air-quotes around the name. Blaine gave her a little wave.

"You'd better call me Blaine now, I think." He turned to Carole. "I used to babysit her when she was little."

"No kidding!" Carole marveled.

Sarah edged her way around the counter until she was standing close to Finn. "You guys got into  _RENT?_  Do I get tickets?"

"You get backstage passes," Kurt said. That earned him a full-fledged Puckerman tackle hug, making Blaine laugh.

"Well, if I'm gonna have dinner ready before it gets dark, I'd better get started." Puck opened the pantry and pulled out an apron that read  _I used to be Snow White, but I drifted._  "You guys wanna go downstairs while I work?" He tied the apron around his back and grinned at Blaine. "I bet Kurt would let you play his piano."

"He plays the piano?" his dad whispered to Kurt as they all trooped down to the basement. "And he know something about cars."

"Yes, he's perfect, shut up," Kurt whispered back. "He's also  _Noah's_  boyfriend and Finn's - you know."

"Kind of." His dad didn't look one bit fooled. "I'm thinking he's pretty into you, too."

That made Kurt blush horribly. It didn't get any better when Blaine walked right over to the spinnet, opened the lid on the keyboard and sat down, playing some experimental chord progressions that sounded familiar. Then without warning, he opened his mouth, and the rich, warm sound that poured out was beyond anything Kurt had heard from him during rehearsal.

_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun_  
 _And I say it's all right_  
 _Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter_  
 _Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here_  
 _Here comes the sun, here comes the sun  
_ _And I say it's all right_

Kurt felt all of his own words curdle in his throat like old milk, making him mute. He just listened to Blaine, watching his face light up, the way he sang right to Finn. Finn seemed to be handling it just fine, listening and drumming along on his thigh.

_Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces_  
 _Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here_  
 _Here comes the sun, here comes the sun_  
 _And I say it's all right_  
 _Sun, sun, sun, here it comes  
_ _Sun, sun, sun, here it comes_

When Finn confidently came in on his own harmony line on the  _sun, sun, sun_  part, Kurt guessed they'd rehearsed this before. It gave him the courage to sing along on the third verse, smiling at Blaine's approving nod. The three of them sung a few last repetitions of  _sun, sun, sun_  without accompaniment as Blaine stopped playing.

"That sounded wonderful!" Carole exclaimed, as Blaine slid his arms around Finn and hugged him. Finn looked a little surprised to find Blaine in his arms, but not at all unhappy about it. "Blaine, you must sing with your school choir."

"I'm in the Warblers at Dalton," he said. "We mostly sing  _a cappella._  But at the coffeehouse, we sing other stuff, like The Beatles. It's really fun."

"You can sing The Beatles  _a cappella,"_  said Kurt. "Haven't you heard The King's Singers? They have a whole album."

Blaine shook his head. "No, I haven't heard it."

Without a second thought, Kurt grasped Blaine's hand, dragged him into his room and dug out his iPod, hunting for the particular track he wanted. He didn't consider the implications of what he'd just done until Blaine cleared his throat. He was staring with big eyes at the paddle resting beside Kurt's pillow, and the chains threaded through the rings screwed to the headboard of his bed.

"Oh," Blaine said. He reached out a tentative hand toward the chains, then drew back.

"It's okay," Kurt said, trying for that gentle Finn voice. "They're just tools."

It seemed to work a little, but Blaine didn't attempt to touch them again. He did sit on the edge of Kurt's bed when he was prompted, and listened to the recording with interest.

"That's fantastic," he said. He tried humming along, then sang. Kurt immediately jumped in with the harmony; he'd been practicing with the CD since he was a kid.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
 _Take these broken wings and learn to fly_  
 _All your life  
_ _You were only waiting for this moment to arise._

Finn appeared in the doorway, his smile soft and pleased as he listened. Kurt kept his focus on Blaine, noticing with delight the way Blaine played off his harmony, blending perfectly. He was so responsive and so professional that it was almost as easy as singing with Adam.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
 _Take these sunken eyes and learn to see_  
 _All your life_  
 _You were only waiting for this moment to be free._  
 _Blackbird, fly_  
 _Blackbird, fly  
_ _Into the light of the dark black night._

Blaine ended with a laugh, reaching for Kurt just as he'd done with Finn. Kurt hugged him without thinking, trying not to feel too overwhelmed at having Blaine so close.

"That was incredible," Blaine gushed. "Kurt, I'm serious, you sound amazing. Can I bring that arrangement to the Warblers? They would adore it."

"Of course," he said, feeling dizzy.  _You can have anything you want._

"Burt and my mom took Beth and went upstairs with Sarah," said Finn. "They promised not to mess with Puck while he was cooking. He gets a little territorial about the kitchen."

"I never expected he would want to cook." Blaine's face was flushed with the high of singing. "Is he any good?"

"He's good at cooking like Kurt is good at performing," said Finn, ignoring Kurt's protests.

Blaine raised both eyebrows. "That's high praise."

"Noah deserves all of it." Kurt went to the bookshelf and chose the first  _Griffin and Sabine_  book from the middle shelf. He handed it to Blaine. "Here. This is the book I was quoting from in the car."

Blaine opened the book, curiously opening the flaps and peering into the envelopes. "Cool."

"Come, sit." Kurt climbed back onto his bed, crossing his legs and making room for Blaine to join him. Finn waited until Blaine was settled next to Kurt, then sat on the other side of of him, being careful not to get too close. If Finn was feeling anything like the way Kurt himself was feeling at the moment, that was a good thing. He was pretty sure if he got too close to Blaine now, he would be completely useless during dinner.

"It's okay for us to be down here alone?" Blaine asked, glancing at the door.

"It's fine," Kurt promised. "They're trying to give us some space to be alone."

"That's so nice." Blaine looked bewildered by this.

He leaned against Finn, scarcely appearing aware of what he was doing. Finn supported him with one arm, not quite an embrace, but close to one. Kurt tried to watch them without appearing to do so: Finn's expressions, the way his breathing evened out the more contact he had with Blaine.

"They're really nice people," Kurt said. He touched Finn's knee, holding the book up so they could both see it. "Would you like to read it to Blaine? With me?"

"Oh," said Finn, "um." He looked at Blaine's hopeful expression. "Yes?"

Kurt turned to the beginning, and they took turns reading, Finn taking the part of optimistic Sabine, as he always did, and Kurt as the bewildered, pensive Griffin. Blaine was hooked from the first enigmatic line:  _It's good to get in touch with you at last. Could I have one of your fish postcards?_

But as the story wound on, Blaine appeared to be feeling more and more uncertain, drawing in against Finn at certain points. Kurt paused about halfway through.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm just..." Blaine was silent for a moment. Then he burst out, "Do you think this could really happen?"

"Like, this kind of knowing someone? From far away, without having ever met them?" Finn thought. "I think so. It doesn't make any sense, but when I don't think about it too hard, it feels like it could happen."

"I think..." He turned to Kurt, reaching for his hands and gripping them hard. "I think this is what happened. With me and Puck."

"You don't see him painting pictures in your head," said Finn, wrinkling his brow. Blaine shook his head.

"Not that, but... the connection. I mean, we've been dreaming about one another since we met seven months ago. We've both dreaming about the same kind of things. Little things, things I shouldn't have known about him. And not just me and him. Beth was in my dreams, too, and I didn't even know she existed. I can't explain it, but this..." He flipped back to the beginning of the book, brushing fingertips across the postcard of Griffin's fish and broken wine glass. "This feels familiar. Like your house does."

Kurt wasn't sure what to say about that. He watched Blaine pause on Griffin's paintings, knowing in his head they weren't Griffin's at all; the author Nick Bantok had painted them.

_It's just a story,_  he wanted to say _._ But he could tell Blaine was feeling things he couldn't explain, and Kurt didn't exactly have answers either.

"What have you been dreaming about?" he asked. Blaine ducked his head, blushing, and Kurt shook his head. "I don't mean that you need to tell -"

"No," Blaine said. "No, I - I  _want_  to tell. There's... a lot of things I've been dreaming about." The spots of color on his cheeks had tightened to two bright circles on his cheeks. "Maybe I should be having this conversation with Puck, though."

"If he's the one you want them with," Finn said steadily. Blaine nodded, and Finn nodded back. "That's okay, to want them with a certain person."

"Yeah, he's pretty much my  _certain person._  Or has been, anyway, in my head, for months." He shrugged helplessly. "It's funny, I always felt kind of... broken, that I didn't want the same things everybody else wanted. Like, I thought at first it was because I was gay, but eventually I realized it didn't matter how cute the guys were if they didn't want to -"

He stopped, pressing his lips together. Kurt gave him an encouraging smile.

"What you  _want_  is okay. No matter how unusual you think it is. We have people who taught us that."

Blaine nodded, looking up at Finn. "Like Carl?"

"And people who taught him," Finn said. "Even Puck believes he's okay, if we get him in the right frame of mind before we tell him."

"He's amazing," Blaine blurted, then laughed, cringing a little. "I'm sorry. You don't need to hear me say that about somebody else."

"Are you kidding?" Finn gave Blaine a little squeeze. "We both think so too. And so do other people."

"Do you think Puck's...  _other people_... will mind me being around?" Blaine's question was very tentative.

"Puck's other person is my person, too," Kurt said. "And even though he's pretty busy right now, we've been telling him all about you, and he's nothing but happy for us. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Sarah appeared shortly after that to summon them for dinner. Kurt put  _Griffin and Sabine_ back on the shelves with the other two volumes in the series. Blaine took his arm as they walked upstairs.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," he said solemnly. "I could tell it was important to you. You're... well, you're sharing a  _lot_  of things that are important to you with me. I just wanted you to know I appreciate it."

It wasn't easy not to react with Blaine talking to him like that. His dad didn't say anything more about it, but Kurt could tell he was watching him while they ate dinner, not quite smiling, but definitely aware of how Blaine was the center of attention.

_For all three of us,_  Kurt thought. Finn was maintaining the same deliberate distance from Blaine that he had demonstrated on Kurt's bed, but seemed to welcome any time Blaine happened to reach out and make contact. It might not be quite the same for Finn as it was for Puck - or himself, he had to admit - but Kurt thought there probably wasn't all that much difference in the way they all were feeling about Blaine being there.

Puck, or someone, had made a little extra effort to dress up the table with cloth napkins and placemats. The pork tenderloin and potatoes  _au gratin_  were simple and delicious, and Blaine said so, eating almost as much as Finn did.

"Dalton's food isn't too bad," he said, when Carole encouraged him to take a third helping, "but it's nothing like this."

"Cafeteria food," Puck scoffed, tucking Beth more securely into his front pack. "There's no comparison."

"No, no," Blaine began, turning red, but Finn touched his arm, shaking his head.

"He's teasing," he said. "Trust me, he's totally sure how good his food is."

"Kurt says your last name's Anderson," said his dad. "You wouldn't happen to be related to Darren Anderson, would he? CFO of General Dynamics?"

Blaine nodded. "He's my father. He moved to Columbus last year. He's mostly telecommuting now."

"They're not very close," Kurt said to his dad, hoping he'd take the hint not to grill Blaine about his father.

"What's it like to go to a residential school?" Carole asked. "I imagine it would be hard to be so far away from home."

Blaine smiled. "It's not as hard as you think. The place I'm supposed to call home isn't exactly as nice as - well, here, for example."

"I'm sorry to hear that." She smiled back sympathetically. "You're welcome here, Blaine."

"I can tell." He turned his smile on Puck. "I don't think I've ever felt so welcome anywhere."

"I told Blaine he could stay on the couch in the family room tonight," Finn said. Kurt's dad looked at Carole, then nodded.

"That would be fine. I don't think there's anything on the agenda."

"Monopoly?" Sarah suggested, poking Puck.

Blaine was looking at Puck, too. "I was kind of hoping you would sing with us." He turned to Finn. "All of us together?"

"Sarah sings too." Finn grinned at her sudden scowl.

"Maybe if you sang  _with_  us, squirt, we'd be more inclined to play Monopoly with you later." Puck stood up, surveying the table. "I'll be down as soon as I'm done here."

Blaine looked anxious when they returned to the basement without Puck. "Shouldn't we help clean up?"

"It's Noah's responsibility," Kurt said. He wasn't sure what Blaine already understood about Puck's situation at the house, but Blaine accepted that answer from him without further question.

Carole and Burt remained upstairs, claiming they'd already chosen a movie to watch together, although Kurt guessed they'd be listening to the music too.

"Finn, your mother said it would be  _a summer of shows,_ " Blaine said. "Are there others I didn't know about?"

"The only show I'm doing is summer school," Finn said, shrugging. He looked over at Kurt, who hesitated.

"Noah's... person," Kurt said carefully. "He's performing something."

"Oh." Blaine looked interested. "Do we - I mean, will you plan to see the performance?"

Now Finn was watching Kurt very intently. Kurt bit his lip and nodded.

"Maybe you'd like to come along," he found himself saying. Finn's eyes widened as Blaine's face lit up.

"Kurt," Finn said softly.

"Noah's right," he said to Finn. "We haven't gotten anywhere by keeping things from one another. Blaine's kept Dave's secret all these years. I don't think we need to worry about him telling anyone."

"It doesn't have to - you don't have to -" Blaine clearly was torn. "I mean, I'd  _love_  to come, wherever you want to take me." He blushed. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to tell me."

"I want to," Kurt said. He reached out for Blaine, and Blaine came right to him, letting Kurt put his arms around him. It seemed almost impossible that Blaine could want that, but he didn't seem to mind, not even a little. If it had been Finn or Puck in his arms, Kurt would have kissed him. "It's not only my decision, though. We have to ask... Adam."

Finn let out a surprised huff. Kurt just pulled Blaine a little closer.

"All right," Blaine said, nodding. "That's fine. And thank you for trusting me."

"You're obviously trustworthy. Even Dave thinks so, and that's saying something." Finn sat down on the short L of the green couch. Blaine glanced over at him uncertainly.

"I don't think Dave thinks much about me anymore," he said.

"He does," Kurt said, even as Finn shook his head.

"He made me promise that I wouldn't take advantage of you," he said.

Blaine laughed, incredulous. " _You?_  Take  _advantage_  of me? _"_

"I think he didn't like the idea of you being just another one of the guys I was dating. And he knows a little about what me and Puck and Kurt do, and... he doesn't much like that idea either."

Kurt watched Blaine's face turn red. "Well, it's not his business, is it?"

"I'm just saying he cares about you. I can't fault him for that." He fixed his gaze on Blaine. "I promised you were safe with me, and I meant it."

Now Blaine's lip was wobbling. Kurt kissed his cheek, whispering words of comfort.

"I miss him," said Blaine at last, wiping his eyes. "I do. He was important to me. Even though I feel a little stupid for caring about somebody who's so stuck in hating himself that he has to pretend to be someone he's not."

"I think he's pretty angry at himself for doing that," said Kurt. "I think, with a little encouragement, he'll get through it. In the meantime, at least he knows one person cares. I think in time he'll be able to hear that you do, too."

Blaine looked at him so gratefully, Kurt  _had_  to kiss him. Luckily Blaine didn't object. Finn looked away, smiling.

"He went to space camp," said Finn. "That's why you couldn't find him. He'll be gone until August."

"Oh...  _cool."_  Blaine looked dazzled by the idea. "Space camp. He always liked science fiction more than I did."

"Maybe you could write to him," Kurt said. "An email, something. I would pass it on to him."

"I get the feeling he's not going to feel so happy when he finds out you guys are together," said Finn. "Or you and Puck, for that matter."

"He doesn't get to say who I date," Blaine said. He didn't sound uncertain at all about that. He sounded like there was no question what he wanted.

"No, he definitely doesn't," agreed Puck, coming down the stairs. They all turned to watch him set his guitar on the coffee table. Then Puck turned to Finn, looking very cool and relaxed. "Kitchen's clean. Carole's putting Beth down. Okay if I sing with you guys a little?"

Finn considered him for a few moments. He looked over at Kurt, a questioning look on his face. Kurt nodded, and Finn nodded too. "You can do that."

"Thank you," Puck murmured. He omitted the  _sir,_  but Kurt could hear it anyway.

Blaine watched the interchange in silence. He didn't appear to be distressed by it. When Puck picked up his guitar and tuned it, Blaine's face softened into a dreamy smile. It made Kurt grin.

"You know Blaine can play guitar, too," said Finn. "He's damn good."

"I want to hear Puck," Blaine insisted.

"He's going to make you listen to Neil Diamond," Kurt told him. He giggled at the mock-offended look on Puck's face, and leaned over to kiss him.

"I like Neil Diamond," objected Finn, making Kurt giggle harder. Blaine smiled, glancing between them.

"You three are so cute together. And I'm pretty sure I've never said those words before."

"I'm sure it won't be the last time you say them," said Puck. He leaned over and kissed Blaine teasingly, making him blush. "But, okay. I'll keep it to one Neil."

[ _http://youtu.be/_OWv9w7RPDU_ ](http://youtu.be/_OWv9w7RPDU)

_Mama she always told me that someday it would happen_  
 _But she never said that it would happen like this_  
 _Papa said, some little girl'll catch you nappin'_  
 _Some little girl will get to you with her kiss_  
 _You got to me_  
 _You brought me to my knees_  
 _Never thought I'd say please, girl_  
 _You got to my soul_  
 _You got control  
_ _You got to me, you got to be mine_

Puck sang the song to Blaine, but when he was done, Blaine was looking at Finn.

"Was that aimed at Finn?" he asked.

"I was thinking Kurt, actually." Puck shrugged. "Could be either one, though. I was being an asshole, just like Karofsky. The two of 'em, they made it all okay."

"Yeah," Blaine said softly. "I know."

"I know you do, babe." He drew Blaine close enough for another kiss, this one slow and lingering. It left Blaine whimpering. Kurt squirmed to hear him make that sound. "You understand how it feels to want that. We all do. That makes it so good."

Blaine nodded, a little breathless. "You... you wear their collar?"

Puck reached for Blaine's throat, fingering it gently. Blaine choked on a moan. Kurt swallowed his own.

"Yeah," he said. His voice was full of promise. "It's not as awesome as yours, though."

Blaine's eyes, which had slid shut under Puck's touch, opened again in surprise. "You've seen my collar?"

"Sure." Puck smiled. "Beautiful leather. It's made by the same craftswoman who did Finn's."

Blaine's gaze jerked to Finn.  _"You_  have a collar?"

Finn nodded steadily. "Would you like to see it?"

Kurt knew that Finn's honey-brown collar had been sitting in its hickory box on the top shelf of Kurt's closet since Finn and Carl had shifted to a purely disciplinary relationship. He was reasonably certain it wasn't because Finn didn't want to wear it. Blaine looked frozen by Finn's question.

"N-not right now," Blaine whispered.

Finn nodded again, releasing him with his eyes, and Blaine was able to move again. Kurt had some sense of how he might be feeling. Finn, wearing someone else's collar... Kurt had never seen him wear it, either, although he'd had glimpses of that dynamic at Tessera between Carl and Finn. It had been intense.

"Puck, how about some Indigo Girls," Finn said. "Something we all know."

It ended up being several songs, one right after one another, beginning with "Closer to Fine." By the time they reached "Fill It Up Again," Sarah had snuck down the stairs and was sitting on the bottom step, listening.

Kurt and Blaine both dug into the harmonies while Puck played. Finn mostly sat quietly and listened like Sarah, but every now and then he'd sing along. The last song, he didn't know, but Blaine and Puck both did, and they sang the whole thing together, with harmonies that sounded like they'd practiced them:

[ _http://youtu.be/MwGUI7DxEHc_ ](http://youtu.be/MwGUI7DxEHc)

_I come to you with strange fire_  
I make an offering of love  
The incense of my soil is burned  
By the fire in my blood

_I come with a softer answer_  
To the questions that lie in your path  
I want to harbor you from the anger  
Find a refuge from the wrath

_This is a message of love_  
Love that moves from the inside out  
Love that never grows tired  
I come to you with strange fire

"That's how it feels," Blaine said in a hushed voice. "When Finn..." He glanced at the staircase nervously before going on. "Like, it burns me, but it protects me too. I feel safer, cleaner, afterward. More myself." He laughed a little, looking up at Finn. "I never felt like it was important to  _be_  myself before I met you."

Blaine was looking at him like there was no one else in the room. Finn was silent. Finally he stirred, stretching.

"Say good night to Sarah, Blaine."

Blaine opened his mouth and closed it again, staring. Then he bowed his head. "Good night."

"'Night," she said cheerfully. "We can play Monopoly in the morning. And I'll show you my house plans."

"I'd like that," Blaine said. She gave them a quick wave and disappeared into her room, shutting the door.

Finn put out his hand to Blaine. "Come with me."

"Finn," he said, sounding strangled. He flicked his gaze from Puck to Kurt and back again to Finn. "I can't —"

"I won't do anything you don't give consent for me to do. But you need to come with me, now."

Without another word, Blaine followed Finn into Kurt's room. The expression Kurt saw on Blaine's face before Finn closed the door was one of profound relief.

Puck set his guitar back into its case, shaking his head thoughtfully.

"Still so weird. Blaine... I've been trying not to push him all night. And then Finn, he just says a couple words, and Blaine's  _done._ "

Kurt moved in and kissed Puck's cheek. "You react the same way to him."

"Nah," said Puck. "I react that way to Adam. But same difference, I guess." He glanced at the door. "What do you figure they're doing in there?"

"It's not really our business," Kurt said. He tried not to sound too wistful.

"You get to want him, baby." Puck's hand shifted to Kurt's thigh, stroking inside by his knee, then higher. Kurt shivered. "I sure as hell do."

"He wants you, too," Kurt said.

That made Puck climb on top of Kurt on the couch, kissing his neck and grinding against him with increasing urgency. When they heard the sound of Blaine breaking down in the bedroom, crying out, they both groaned.

"We are not going to do this out here on the couch," Kurt told him. The idea of Blaine and Finn walking out and finding them in the middle of things was very hot, but it was entirely overshadowed by the fact that his dad and Carole were right upstairs.

"Fuck," Puck growled. He took Kurt's hand and placed it on the bulge in his jeans. "I could come, right here on top of you."

"Noah." It was more desperate than a command, but it had the desired effect, namely that Puck stopped. He shifted to sit next to Kurt with a frustrated sigh.

"Beth's sleeping upstairs in my room." He gave Kurt's door another glum glance. "I can't remember the last time somebody said  _no_  to sex with the Puckasaurus."

"You need a spanking more than you need sex, sweetheart." He reached out and grasped Puck's hand, trying not to pay attention to the way Puck was stroking his own cock through his jeans with one thumb. "And they needed to be alone for a little while."

"Yeah," Puck said. "Whatever Blaine needs, Finn can give it to him."

"Not everything," said Kurt. "Finn's not giving him sex. He wants that from you."

Puck's stroking sped up, his eyes sparking with desire. "Fuck yeah, I want that from him."

"You want his mouth," Kurt added. He watched Puck's head drop back on the couch, and he gripped his own cock firmly through his khaki shorts. "I'd like to see that."

"Want you to talk him through it," said Puck, his eyes closed. His voice caught on the words, and he licked his lips. "Tell him just what to do... how deep to take me, how fast. Use his mouth to get me off."

"Oh god," muttered Kurt. He couldn't take his eyes off Puck's thumb, rubbing hard and fast now on his cock. Puck whimpered, his hips bucking forward. Things were quickly getting out of hand. "Noah...  _stop."_

Puck froze, his hips giving one last convulsive jerk before they stopped.

"Kurt," he whined.

"Save it." He reached out and touched Puck's leg, close to where his cock lay trapped inside his jeans, and watched it twitch. He could feel his own shorts, now a damp mess of arousal. A few good squeezes, and he could come right there, too. But he wouldn't. "After Blaine goes to bed, come downstairs. I want you, inside me."

"Yeah." Puck's breathing was evening out again. "I can give that to you, baby."

Kurt resisted thrusting against the slickness coating the inside of his shorts. He took a long, deep breath. "All right. Thank you."

It felt like they waited for an eternity before Finn opened the bedroom door. He beckoned them both inside.

"I thought you might want to see this," he said in a whisper.

Blaine was asleep in the center of Kurt's bed, Kurt's duvet wrapped snugly around him, his head pillowed on his own arm. He'd grasped one of the lengths of chain fastened to the corner of the bed. Even while he slept, one hand was still curled loosely around it. Puck and Kurt stood there for several long moments, watching his even breathing as he slept.

Then they all started moving at once. Finn slid an arm around Puck's waist, and Kurt arched his neck to kiss Finn, and Puck groped for Kurt's crotch, muttering, "C'mon... want you, now."

"Don't wake him up," Kurt warned - then gasped at Finn's fingers on his zipper.

"Let me help with that. I've got the lube."

Finn tugged Puck's jeans down, supporting him while he kicked them off. Puck crouched down on the rug, reaching around Kurt to stroke him while Finn pressed inside him with one, then two insistent, slick fingers. The angle was different from what he was used to, but it wasn't a bad sensation at all.

Kurt stifled his noises and kept his eyes on Blaine sleeping on his bed.  _His_  bed, under  _his_  duvet, holding  _his_  chain, after Finn had doubtless given him exactly the kind of discipline he'd needed. It didn't upset him; it was just so, so hot.

He thrust forward into Puck's waiting hand, then back against Finn's long fingers, again and again, until he was quivering with need.

"Now, now, please, now," he whispered.

Puck moved to kneel behind him, easing into him with short, sharp thrusts. Kurt bit back a sob when Puck made his first long stroke, drawing out and pushing back in, filling him. It was a credit to Puck's dexterity and coordination that he was able to keep up a steady pace with his hand on Kurt's cock at the same time.

And then Blaine began to stir, and Kurt said, frantically, "Wait - he's waking up -"

"If there's one thing I'm learning, taking care of Beth," said Puck, holding Kurt down with one heavy arm across his back, "it's that you've got to grab the time you have, no matter what. Let me fuck you."

Finn went to the bed and lay down along the wall behind Blaine, gathering him up in both arms, so that his head rested on Finn's chest and he faced away from the room. Blaine sighed contentedly, his eyes still closed.

"Hey," they heard Blaine murmur.

"Hey," Finn said. He was smiling, but his eyes were fixed on Kurt's over Blaine's shoulder, drinking him in as the force of Puck's body drove him into the carpet. "Shhh. You can go back to sleep."

"It's Kurt's bed," Blaine protested, but it was weak. "I don't want to be a bother."

"You're not a bother."

"Will you stay with me?"

"I'll be right here."

"Can't believe I get that." This last was a whisper. Kurt didn't think Blaine said anything else, but he couldn't be certain, considering his attention was being neatly diverted by Puck as he sped up his thrusts.

"Oh, fuck," Puck groaned quietly in his ear, "baby, you feel so good, Kurt."

Kurt kept his eyes locked with Finn's, even as he shook with silent release. Puck ground into Kurt a few more times, then pinned him with his hips before collapsing on top of him.

"God," he muttered.

Finn didn't say anything, but he hadn't looked away from the two of them. Blaine was still and quiet in his arms, breathing evenly again.

Puck withdrew, but took his time letting Kurt go. He seemed a little surprised at himself. Kurt kissed him and whispered thanks and praise, and eventually he relaxed.

"He slept through that?" Kurt said to Finn, when he could speak again. Finn nodded. "Are you... I mean, you must be really…" He gestured at Finn's midsection, hidden by Blaine's body. "Would you let me...?"

"I'm all right," Finn said quietly. "You want me to take him upstairs?"

"No, no." Kurt rose to his feet, holding out a hand. "I'll sleep on the green couch. You stay where you are. We'll go clean up."

Puck straightened up slowly, gathering his discarded clothing.

"Puck?" When Puck paused, Finn smiled at him. "That was pretty amazing."

Puck nodded. His eyes were still full of Blaine, but he went with Kurt into the bathroom that connected Kurt's room with Sarah's and turned on the water, stripping off the rest of his clothes. They both stepped into the tub under the spray.

"You're okay?" Kurt asked him. Puck nodded again, looking pensive.

"It wasn't like I wanted you any differently," he said. "But the way I want  _him,_  it's... I can't explain it."

"You don't have to, Noah." Kurt soaped up his hands and slid them across Puck's firm body. "I think I understand, anyway. He inspires you to  _want_ to be in control."

"Yeah." He turned his eyes toward Kurt. "You didn't seem to mind?"

"No, I don't mind." He passed the bottle of body wash to Puck and traded places with him, letting Puck scrub his chest and stomach. "I was watching Finn tonight, the way he was with Blaine. I could see how calm he was, how much in control of himself. All of his focus was on Blaine. It reminded me of how Carl used to be with Finn, don't you think?"

Puck nodded. "But Blaine doesn't calm  _me_  down like that."

"You don't think so? I think you get a little of that. But I see what you mean. He energizes you. Maybe it's because you're not disciplining him."

Puck's face grew still and overwhelmed. "Oh... fuck."

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"I hadn't," Puck protested. "Not really. Yeah, when I'm fucking him, I wanna be in control, but..." He shook his head in consternation. "He's wearing Finn's collar. I wouldn't, not unless he said it was okay. Blaine wants me as his boyfriend, and that's enough for me."

They finished showering and dried off. Kurt handed him a robe from the back of the door.

"Come up to my room in the morning?" Puck asked.

Kurt considered him. "I could come up now."

Puck blinked at him. "You want to - sleep with me and Beth?"

"If that wouldn't be too distracting. I think I'd sleep better with you than I would alone."

"She doesn't sleep all that well," Puck warned, but he was already taking Kurt's hand with a glad smile.

Kurt squeezed it. "I don't really want to be away from you right now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The King's Singers Beatles Connection album includes several a cappella Beatles arrangements, including Blackbird. [Their arrangement](http://youtu.be/ywkarAwB0W8) was the inspiration for the Warblers' version (originally sung by the Tufts Beelzebubs).


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this chapter. Just family/poly dynamics, and Adam. 
> 
> -amy

 

Kurt shifted and opened bleary eyes when Puck woke up at one-thirty to feed Beth.

"Go back to sleep," he said, putting a hand on Kurt's arm, and Kurt didn't question him. He rolled back over and closed his eyes and didn't stir again. Puck was a little envious of Kurt's ability to do that. Once Beth had eaten and was changed and back in her crib, it would take him at least another forty-five minutes before he would be able to manage sleep again.

He made his way in the dark down the stairs to the basement. Sarah didn't seem to be awake, which was a good thing. As quietly as he could, he opened the door to Kurt's room. The light from the bathroom illuminated the bed well enough for him to see Finn and Blaine, fast asleep, still wrapped up in one another.

Puck smiled, backing out of the room and closing the door. He went back upstairs and settled into bed next to Kurt, holding him from behind. Eventually he fell asleep.

The next time Beth woke up, Kurt was already awake. He leaned over and kissed Puck on the cheek.

"Can I give it a try?" he asked.

"Yeah? I mean, sure." Puck gestured at the kitchen. "You've got to warm up the milk."

"I know how. I promise I'll come get you if I need help. Go back to sleep."

Puck didn't actually sleep, but it felt nice to lie in bed with his eyes closed, listening to Beth's mild noises and Kurt's murmured conversation with her. Eventually she settled down to eating. Kurt sat in the gliding rocker next to the window.

"Hi," he heard Kurt say. "I'm up feeding Beth and thought I'd try you on the off chance you were still awake. No, I'm glad." He sounded amused. "Yeah, I can tell. I hope you're having fun, anyway."

 _Adam._  Puck rolled over to face them. He couldn't see much in the dark, just the outline of Kurt and Beth in the chair.

"We brought Blaine home to meet our parents last night. He's downstairs in my room with Finn. No, they're not. He just fell asleep after Finn disciplined him, and we didn't want to disturb him." Kurt laughed quietly. "Well, yeah. I'm not sure where else they'd do it, if we couldn't do it here? Although they're experts at being quiet."

Another pause. Puck thought he could hear a little background noise over the phone from whatever party Adam was at.

"For all of us, yeah. It's not all that sudden, if you think about it. Blaine and Noah… you should see them together. It's remarkable."

The way Kurt was speaking to Adam about him made him feel warm inside. It should have been weird, shifting back and forth between the way he usually was at the Hummel house, with everyone else in charge of him, and the way he felt with Blaine, but the fact that no one else was questioning it made it easier to accept.

"I was hoping…" Kurt lifted Beth experimentally, then rose to put her down. She made a few noises of complaint, but Kurt waited, as Puck had shown him, and she eventually quieted. "Sorry, I'm multitasking. Blaine… I'd like to tell Blaine about you."

Puck raised himself up on one elbow, trying to make out Kurt's face in the dark. He could hear the tension in Kurt's voice. When Kurt felt like that, it always made him feel a little anxious too.

"I think he is," said Kurt. "I think what convinced me was his history with Dave. Karofsky. Well, apparently they were friends, all through elementary school? And at some point he and Dave came out to one another. Blaine didn't exactly agree with Dave's decision to stay closeted, but even when Dave tried to drive him off, Blaine didn't tell anybody. He's kept his friendship with Dave secret since he was eight. That's significant."

Puck sat up, leaning against the wall. He reached over and switched on the little light next to his bed. It wouldn't be bright enough to disturb Beth's sleep. Kurt met his gaze and smiled, then paused, his eyes widening.

"Oh, Adam," he said. "You'd do that?"

"What?" Puck asked softly.

Kurt rose from the chair and came over to the bed, sitting beside Puck, his legs folded beneath him. He handed over one earpiece of his headset. The sounds of the party blared to life, the insistent beat of the music filling in the spaces between their words.

"… _wanted to send you tickets, anyway,"_  Adam was saying. " _It's not any harder to send five. You think your dad would let you go to this one, now that school is out?"_

"I'm not going to take no for an answer," Kurt said. He snuggled in close into the curve made by Puck's shoulder, pulling the blanket up over both of them. "Adam wants to talk to Blaine, on the phone, and give us three backstage passes for the Cleveland show in July."

"Dude," Puck said, grinning. "Us, backstage? You don't think that'd be a total giveaway?"

" _Hey, honey. I'm not surprised you're awake. I think as long as we don't actually talk to one another at the show, we'd be cool."_  Adam sounded a little blurry with alcohol. " _And I'm sure we could arrange for all of you to stay at the same hotel where we're staying."_

"Yes please," Kurt said. His eyes sparkled. "I'm thinking you'll be asleep for most of tomorrow morning. Can we call you after you sleep?"

" _Yeah, give me a couple hours to sober up, at least. I don't want to make a bad impression, not on a guy who means so much to you. I'll text you when I wake up."_

Kurt hugged Puck for a long time after Adam hung up.

"Adam noticed," said Kurt. "That we — that Blaine means so much."

"I don't think he could have missed that, baby."

Kurt let out a little sigh.

"Thanks for feeding and changing her," Puck said.

"I don't mind helping, as long as I don't have to be up early the next day. I'm pretty useless and bitchy if I don't sleep."

"I know." He nuzzled Kurt's neck. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do for her. You know I'm totally okay with doing it."

"I do know that. You're very good at doing everything for everyone else. And I know it gives you what you need. I'm still going to try to take care of you when I can, whether that means helping you get a little extra sleep, or…" Kurt shrugged.

"Or letting me fuck you in the middle of your bedroom floor," he murmured. Kurt laughed.

"Yeah, that too. Although that was probably more for me than for you."

"But Kurt… Blaine, meeting Adam?" Puck shook his head. "I don't know. What's Blaine gonna think? He has no idea what he's getting himself into, being with us."

"I don't think we need to worry about that, sweetheart. He said himself he was happy here, that he felt comfortable. That's a good sign."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Kurt hugged him closer. The light of the tiny lamp made shadows of their bodies on the wall. "You want to take care of him."

Puck closed his eyes, appreciating Kurt's warmth. "Yeah. Not that I'm all that good at it."

"He wants it from you. That's the important part." He used his fingers to trace Puck's face, the outline of his features, his jaw, his chin. Puck sat entranced while he did it. "That's what you did for me. You wanted it. I never thought  _anybody_  would want that from me."

"God, Kurt." Puck had to laugh. "You're fucking gorgeous, and you're smart and bossy and totally hot when you're in charge. Who wouldn't want that?"

"Blaine doesn't, not from me."

"Well, he's kind of taken." He gave Kurt a little squeeze. "You just want to be in charge of everybody."

Kurt let his eyes close, nestling in closer with a sigh. "Just almost everybody."

* * *

Beth was still sleeping when Finn woke Kurt up in the morning to say goodbye on his way to school. "Blaine's setting up Monopoly with Sarah," he whispered in Kurt's ear. "We ate breakfast already. I think you should sleep as long as you can before you head back to Cleveland."

Kurt sat up, yawning. "No, no, I'm awake. I'll let Noah sleep while I save Blaine from being crushed by the youngest Puckerman."

Finn helped Kurt extract himself from Puck's embrace and don his robe. They quietly moved out to the kitchen and closed the door behind them. Finn looked quizzically back at the door, then at Kurt.

"I didn't expect to find you up here."

"I figured this was as good a night as any to try sleeping with Noah and Beth."

Finn nodded. "And?"

"Well, you've done it, so you know what it's like." He shrugged. "We woke up a lot, twice to feed her. I helped feed her once, but Noah was up every time anyway. He didn't…"

Finn paused in reaching for a travel mug at the top of the cupboard. "Didn't what?"

Kurt sighed. "It's just... what he told us about how it was with Adam, at Tessera. Adam slept with him every night. It was clear he was helping Noah."

Finn picked up the hot water kettle and poured it into the mug, stirring in some hot chocolate mix. "Puck never sleeps well."

"I don't mean sleep, exactly. Helping him feel… satisfied. Cared for."

Finn tilted his head at Kurt. "Baby, you do that for Noah."

"That wasn't  _Noah_  I was taking care of last night," Kurt hissed, stabbing a finger at the closed door. "Not  _my_  Noah. The only time he gets aggressive like that is when — when —" He stopped, taking a breath, and appealing to Finn with his eyes. "When something's wrong with me."

There was the sound of a throat being cleared in the doorway. They both looked up, startled, to see Blaine standing there, looking adorably rumpled in a pair of khakis and a short-sleeved button down shirt.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Kurt pulled his robe closer and tied it more securely around his waist as Finn went over to him.

"No, it's fine," said Finn. "You're not interrupting." He turned back to Kurt. "I've got to get going. We can talk about this tonight." He rested a hand on Blaine's shoulder, smiling at him, and Blaine smiled up at him. When he picked up his backpack and headed toward the front door, Blaine put his own hand where Finn's had been, touching Kurt's shoulder.

"I  _was_  kind of interrupting," Blaine said. He was watching Kurt carefully, but he didn't look upset. "Can you tell me what you meant when you said something's wrong with you?"

Kurt was silent. How could he tell Blaine,  _it's because you don't want me like you want Noah or Finn?_  Blaine had made it very clear that he  _did_  want Kurt. It wasn't Blaine's fault if it wasn't the same.

"It's complicated," he said.

Blaine came over to stand before him, his cheeks pink. "I'd like to hug you, if that wouldn't be weird."

"Why would it be — oh." Kurt glanced down at his robe. "I could go put on some clothes first, if you'd rather."

"I don't mind if you don't." Blaine smiled shyly. It was utterly sweet.

Kurt didn't hesitate to wrap him up in his arms, trying not to be too grabby. He wondered how the phrase  _you have an amazing body_  would land on Blaine's ears, so early in the morning. Blaine sighed with happiness.

"Thank you," he said.

"Anytime," Kurt said. "Really." He pulled back to smile back at Blaine. "You really don't have to play Monopoly with Sarah."

"I don't mind. I like having a chance to see her again. She's so much older than she was when I babysat her, but she's so much the same, too." He looked at Puck's bedroom door. "Did you sleep all right?"

"As much as sleep is possible when there's a baby involved. We did our best. And yourself?"

Blaine nodded, still looking embarrassed. "I feel bad that I ended up taking your bed."

"This house is a little short on beds. We're doing something about that, though. Did anyone tell you about the new house?"

"Sarah mentioned house plans. Was she talking about a real house?" Blaine's smile widened. "You'll have to tell me all about it."

"I'll do you one better: I'll take you to the construction site on our way back to Cleveland. There's not much to see yet, just a foundation, but it's going up quickly. Every time I drive over there, it's a little taller."

"Are you done snuggling now?" Sarah called from the dining room.

Blaine's face went bright red, but he laughed, ducking his head. "She doesn't exactly pull punches, does she?"

"No more than her brother does," Kurt agreed. He dared to lean forward and kiss Blaine softly before letting him go. Blaine looked delighted by the kiss. That just made Kurt want to do it again, but he controlled himself. He did hold Blaine's hand as they came out to the table.

"It's about time. Don't tell me Noah's not going to play?" Sarah peered into the kitchen from her seat at the head of the table.

"Noah's totally going to play," Puck said, his voice gravelly. They all watched him walk from the kitchen to the hallway as he rubbed his eyes and yawned, heading downstairs. He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers that did little to disguise his morning erection. "And I'm going to demolish you, after I get dressed."

Blaine looked a bit like he'd been hit in the head by the Monopoly iron. He was still staring at the doorway when Kurt said, gently, "Blaine."

"Oh — um." Blaine chuckled to himself, fiddling with his pile of paper money. "Sorry."

"I was just going to suggest you go downstairs with him."

He bit his lip, turning red. "That would… probably be a bad idea."

"I think Noah would think it was a very  _good_  idea. Plus it would make the ride back to Cleveland a little easier for you. I know how it feels to be in a new relationship." Kurt made little encouraging motion with his hands until Blaine stood up, smiling.

"I'll be right back," he said softly. Then he leaned over and kissed Kurt on the cheek. "And you're amazing."

Sarah's expression was reproachful as Blaine hurried down the stairs. "Now we're  _never_  going to get to play."

"For somebody who's so smart, you can be awfully impatient." Kurt resisted the urge to touch his own cheek where Blaine's kiss had landed, just as Blaine had touched his shoulder, and smiled at her. "Give them a break. This is—"

"The boy from the bar, I know." She made a face. "It's just  _weird._  Noah's so much easier to deal with when he's letting you be in charge. But he's not like that with Blaine."

It hit a little too close to home. Kurt tried not to look hurt. "He's not going to stop wanting that with  _me_."

"No, of course not. He's gonna fuck up more, though. Trying new things."

Kurt rested his head on his arms, regarding Sarah. "What's wrong with trying new things?"

"More ways to hurt everybody else. And there's a lot of  _everybody else."_  She had lined up the houses and hotels on the side of the board, and now was rearranging them into new patterns. She shook her head. "The more people are involved, the more responsibility you have to make it work."

Kurt thought about the conversation he'd had with Noah the night before. "I think Noah's worried about that, too."

"Doesn't mean he's going to  _do_  anything about it." She shrugged. "I know how it goes. He does his thing, I deal with the consequences."

"You know we hold him responsible for his actions, too," said Kurt.

Sarah shrugged again, but she looked somewhat mollified. "Yeah, that's true. I'm not saying that doesn't help him. It's just not…" She gestured at the ceiling. "It's not the way the rest of the world works. So what if he ends up being really good at your special house rules and really sucky at the world's rules? That's not gonna make him feel all that good, in the end."

"But he's happiest when there's a balance," Kurt said. "He needs his own domain, like Angela has, and somebody to be in charge of him the rest of the time."

Sarah raised both eyebrows at him. "But how do you make that happen in the real world? What kind of a  _job_  could he have?"

They both stared at the Monopoly board in silence, looking at the familiar spaces, the pattern of colors of the properties, and the four corners.

Kurt tapped the "Go to Jail" corner. "Could he be a policeman?"

"I think asking him to be in charge of people he doesn't care about is a recipe for disaster," she said. "Military, maybe, but not police."

"I think we're thinking too big. How about football coach?"

"I don't think he wants to  _win_  enough to care." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Chef school, like Carole was saying, if he can bump his grades up? Or he could stay home to take care of Beth, as long as you guys keep him out of trouble."

Kurt had to grin at her. "You honestly don't mind me and Finn and Adam handling him? You've been in charge of him for a long time."

"I was in charge of  _everybody,"_  she corrected. "But never like that. Noah listened to me, but he still did his own thing. I couldn't make him care about how he was treating everybody else. You and Finn fixed him. By the time he met Adam, he actually  _wanted_  to do the right thing — even if he still doesn't always know what that is."

"I'm pretty sure none of us know what the right thing is all the time," said Kurt. Sarah gazed at him loftily, and he laughed. "Even you."

"Yeah, probably not," she agreed, grinning back. "I'll keep working on it, though."

Puck was dressed when he and Blaine returned to the table. Blaine looked even more rumpled than he had before he'd gone downstairs, but he was flushed and smiling. Judging by his swollen lips, Kurt knew what he'd been doing, but he wasn't going to comment in front of Sarah. She already knew far more about sex than  _he'd_ known at eleven, and he didn't exactly want to encourage that trend.

"Ready to be demolished?" Puck asked, clapping his hands and rubbing them together gleefully.

"In your dreams," Sarah said. Her wheelbarrow was already on the Start square. She tossed the boot at Puck, who caught it one-handed. Kurt took the Scottie dog; Blaine selected the car.

Within the first half hour, Sarah and Puck were vying for first place, while Kurt and Blaine's chances to break into the lead had decreased significantly. Puck had to step away when Beth woke up to change her. While they waited for him, Kurt's phone vibrated with a text. It was too early for Adam to be awake, but he looked anyway — and paused, eyeing Blaine.

"What?" Blaine asked immediately, his voice low.

"Nothing. It's — Dave."

"Oh." Blaine looked like he was dying to ask what the text said, but he didn't say anything more.

 _Guess who I just met,_  said Dave.  _Francis French._

 _A famous astronaut whose name I would never know?_  Kurt guessed.

_Dude. Pick up a book. Co-author of Falling to Earth and In the Shadow of the Moon? He's written like a zillion articles about space travel._

Kurt suppressed a smile.  _Is he cute?_

There was a longish pause, during which Puck returned with Beth tucked in one arm. Kurt purchased his second railroad and landed on two of Blaine's properties in a single turn. Blaine accepted his money with grace, but he was still watching Kurt's phone.

"I'd like to write that email to him," Blaine said. "If you wouldn't mind sending it. Maybe he'd even read it, if he didn't see my name on it until the end."

"I'm not going to trick him into reading something from you," Kurt told him. "He's had enough of tricks. It'll have to be his choice."

Blaine appeared somewhat hurt, but he nodded. They both looked when the phone buzzed.

 _Maybe a little,_  Dave had written.  _The British accent kind of kills me. I'm seriously not interested, though. For one thing he's like fifty. But he's a great speaker._

 _I'm glad you're having fun,_  Kurt wrote back.  _I met somebody too. I'll tell you about him later, okay?_

_Sounds mysterious. Another guy, Kurt?_

_Later._

About an hour later, Adam texted a brief good morning message, and Kurt replied with an equally brief estimate of when they'd be done. Beth drifted back to sleep, and Puck returned her to their room for the duration of the game. They finished more quickly than Kurt would have anticipated, but it still stretched out over another hour before Sarah captured the last of Puck's properties. She crowed her success, taking the money he handed to her with obvious relish.

"We're going to escape before they try to rope us into another game," Kurt stage-whispered to Blaine. "I'm going to shower and get dressed. Meet me downstairs?"

* * *

When Kurt emerged from the bathroom, Blaine and Puck were making out on the green couch. It wasn't all that surprising that their earlier rendezvous had done little to temper their enthusiasm for one another, but they were able to focus reasonably well on Kurt. He sat down across from them and placed his phone on the table.

"Blaine," said Kurt, "what we're about to tell you is a secret, in much the same way that Finn's arrangement with Carl is a secret. Talking about him doesn't just impact us, it impacts someone very important to us."

Blaine's face had gone sober, and he nodded. He looked over at Puck, whose hand was resting on Blaine's knee.

"We're telling you because we want you to know we trust you," Kurt went on. "But we also need you to agree that you won't tell anyone, for any reason, even if things don't work out between the three of us."

"Of course," Blaine said softly. "Yes, I promise. I can keep a secret."

"I know you can. And Adam trusts us to make good decisions on his behalf." Kurt smiled, trying to remain calm. "It's… amazing, and strange, to be saying his name to you. We mostly call him something else around our friends."

Blaine nodded. "Adam is your other boyfriend? Yours and Puck's?"

Puck grinned at Kurt over Blaine's head. "I'm Adam's, more like. Now, him and Kurt? I don't know who belongs to who. They're just freaking adorable together."

"Oh, he's… um." Blaine looked up at Puck in something like awe. "You belong to a lot of people."

"Yeah, luckily none of them are selfish." He nodded at Kurt. "How do you want to do this, baby?"

"I think I need to just say it. Blaine… Adam's going on tour this summer. He's promoting his album." Kurt licked his lips. "Maybe you've heard of it.  _For Your Entertainment."_

Blaine's dark eyebrows furrowed as he thought. "Adam." The eyebrows flew up. " _Adam Lambert?"_

"Everyone in this household knows," Kurt said. "And Carl, and Sarah's best friend Frances, and Puck's brother. He's actually dating Adam's bodyguard. And now you."

"I won't tell," Blaine said. He still looked a little mystified. "Where did you even  _meet_  him?"

Kurt laughed. "You're not going to ask how we came to be  _dating_  him?"

"Well." Blaine touched Puck's chest, smiling. "The two of you, you're hard to resist. I don't think I would ever question that."

"Kurt can give you the short version of the story on the way back to Cleveland. You guys are gonna need a while to get through all the details." Puck nodded at the phone. "Right now, he wants to say hello."

Blaine's eyes snapped to the phone. "He's going to call you. Right now?"

"Yeah."

He blinked a little, but he was still smiling. "You do hold company with some unusual people, Puck. First Katy Perry, now Adam Lambert?"

"I didn't even tell you about Lady Gaga making dinner for us, or P!nk showing up in Adam's living room," Puck added helpfully. When Blaine broke out laughing, Puck looked nonplussed. "I'm serious."

"I believe you," said Blaine. Then he seized Puck's face, pulling him into a passionate kiss. Kurt had to gulp a little when Puck responded with a growl, taking over the kiss immediately, and Blaine let him, until the phone buzzing against the glass of the table interrupted them.

"All right," said Kurt, trying to keep his voice firm. "We can do this." He picked up the phone and put it to his ear while Puck and Blaine sat back, straightening up. "Adam?"

" _I'm awake, I swear."_ Adam yawned mightily. " _G'morning, honey. Did you lose Monopoly to Noah?"_

"To Sarah, actually," said Kurt, smiling. "You should be glad she hasn't made you play with her."

" _Oh, you didn't know? Me and Sarah, we play Monopoly online. She usually wins. And poker, which I usually win."_

"That's really sweet. We have Blaine here with us, in the basement on the green couch. Are you in a reasonably quiet room?"

" _Ready to be outed,"_  Adam said. He didn't sound anxious, but Kurt knew he was pretty good at masking those feelings.  _"Go ahead and put me on speaker."_

Kurt placed the phone in the center of the coffee table. "Can you hear me?"

" _Loud and clear, honey. Greetings from scenic New Jersey, my lovelies. Condolences on your loss to the Monopoly master."_

"Hey, I win as often as she does," Puck said, grinning.

Kurt watched Blaine's face as he listened. He appeared to be nothing but curious and interested. "Blaine, say hello to Adam."

"It's nice to meet you," Blaine said, and laughed. "I suppose I'm… I don't know, excited to get to know someone else who cares about Puck and Kurt?"

" _They're pretty special guys. You've been haunting Noah's dreams since before he met me. But I tend to believe everything happens for a reason, so I'm not all that surprised you showed up in his life. Is he taking good care of you?"_

Blaine looked taken aback for a moment. "We don't, uh… we don't exactly…"

"That's Finn's job," Puck told him. "I'm just here to turn him on and make him come really hard."

"Noah," Kurt snapped, as Blaine laughed again, nervously. He looked at Puck.

" _You're wrong, though,"_  Adam said gently.  _"You're more than that for Blaine, honey. Do you understand? You're going to take care of his heart, the way I took care of Kurt's. The way he takes care of mine."_

Now Blaine was speechless. He leaned in toward the phone, like he was longing to hear more.

Kurt cleared his throat. "Adam, this is all… very new. As in a few days ago. There's no expectation that anybody's feeling anything like… that."

" _Mmm."_ Adam didn't sound convinced.  _"You might recall how things went for you and me, back in January on the phone. How long did it take, exactly, before we had that conversation about my hand on your heart?"_

Blaine looked up at Kurt, waiting for his answer, even though Kurt was pretty sure Adam had meant the question hypothetically. "Not very long," he admitted.

" _Exactly. Blaine, I'm pretty new at this polyamory thing, but this right here seems to be a benefit of being involved with your lover's lovers. I trusted Noah — and so it was easy to trust Kurt. Likewise, he was able to give me his trust much sooner than he would have if he hadn't seen the evidence that I was taking care of Noah."_

"Yeah," Blaine said with enthusiasm. "And once I found out that Kurt and Puck were Finn's boyfriends, I knew I could trust my own instincts about them. Because Finn wouldn't make bad choices about who to date."

Kurt willed himself not to laugh at the conviction in Blaine's voice.  _We'll see what he thinks after he meets Rachel,_  he thought.

" _That's right. So don't be afraid to say how you feel, even if it seems too soon. Things settle into place much more quickly when there's a framework for them. Like that house they're building. Did Sarah show you the plans?"_

"Not yet, but Kurt's going to drive me by the building site on our way back to Cleveland." He grinned. "Did you know I used to babysit Sarah when she was five?"

" _No way!"_ Adam sounded fascinated. Kurt was pretty sure he wasn't faking it.  _"How did that happen?"_

"Meemee took off for New York when he was supposed to be watching her," said Puck. "I was at soccer camp. She ended up hanging out with Blaine and Frances until I got home."

" _Timothy… abandoned Sarah?"_  asked Adam.

The tone in the room had abruptly changed. and Puck and Blaine both looked at one another, holding their breath.

"It was a long time ago," Kurt said. "You might want to get his side of the story."

" _Oh, I will. You can bet I'll be sitting him down with Jacob. They'll be having a long talk about that."_

Blaine was positively rigid with anxiety. He looked desperately at Puck, who took his hand. "She was fine, with me," he said, "really, it was okay."

" _Blaine, you didn't do anything wrong. And it's not just that I care about Sarah. This is about what Timothy did. I know Timothy, what he's capable of. He's in my house in LA more often than not — and so is his Top. He'll be the one to call him on his shit. Timothy needs that, to be responsible for the times when he ran from his duties."_

Kurt could see Blaine relaxing slowly as Adam spoke to him, using his Voice to calm him down. It was good that Blaine was already sitting so close to Puck, or else Kurt would have had to put his own arms around him. As it was, he stayed on his side of the couch. He knew Puck should be the one to do the holding.

"Did you want to tell Noah and Blaine about the present you'll be sending?" Kurt said.

" _Oh, yes."_  Adam was back to his ordinary, playful self.  _"The tour is going really well. I want to send you all tickets to the Cleveland show in July. I have three backstage passes here for Noah and Kurt and you, Blaine. I'm afraid Finn and Carl will have to be okay with ordinary tickets. We'll have to pretend not to know one another, but I'm sure I can figure out a way for us all to get together afterwards in a less public setting."_

"Thank you," said Blaine. "That would be fantastic. And I'd love the opportunity to meet you."

" _Likewise. Well, I have to be on the bus in twenty minutes, and Angela is starting to give me the evil eye. I'll look forward to your call tonight, Noah."_

"Yes, Adam," Puck said. Blaine looked at him in wonder.

"Tell Angela we miss her," said Kurt. He reached for the phone. "We love you so much. And we'll see you in two weeks."

" _I'll have Angela send you the tickets. I love you, too. Bye."_

Kurt rested the phone in his lap and waited while Blaine collected his thoughts. Puck, meanwhile, gazed at Kurt across the couch.

"Aren't you going to tell Adam that Carl and Finn broke up?"

"I think I'll let Finn figure out how he wants to handle it," said Kurt.

"Wait, what?" Blaine looked distressed. "When did that happen? He didn't tell me that."

"They're maintaining a professional relationship. I don't think either of them are happy about it, but it's what Finn wanted."

Blaine twisted his hands in agitation. "He didn't… it's not because of me, is it?"

"It's because of Carl," said Puck. "Finn couldn't handle the idea that Carl might get caught with Finn and lose his job, or his reputation as a Top. If he wouldn't be able to see his daughter anymore, that would really suck."

He wasn't trying to calm Blaine down, but just speaking matter-of-factly about it seemed to be doing the job. "I guess that's possible," said Blaine. "The two of them were out about their relationship in Columbus, and nobody questioned it. When I met them, I assumed he was in college or something."

"It's not a question of whether or not Finn could pass as a college student. It's that Finn hates lying about his relationships. He saw what happened to Matt and Coach Tanaka." Kurt saw Blaine's confusion, and clarified, "The boy Dave was… seeing. He got caught in a relationship with a teacher. It didn't end well."

"Oh," Blaine said unhappily. "Shit. I hate that Dave had to deal with that."

He intertwined his fingers with Blaine's. "Actually, as awful as it was, being in that relationship did have one positive effect: it forced Dave out of his conviction that he was doomed to be unhappy for the rest of his life. It gave him something possible to look forward to. When we talked about this, he was able to visualize his future. That was a relief, to know Dave could see something good for himself someday."

Blaine was looking at Kurt with a little smile. "It definitely says something about  _you,_  Kurt, that you care about what a boy like Dave can aspire to. Especially considering he targeted you directly. I really admire that, and not just because I care about Dave."

It seemed that Blaine was going to find endless opportunities to make him blush. Kurt avoided his eyes, lest he lose himself in them, and stood up, pocketing his phone. "We should get going if we're going to make it back to the theater in time for rehearsal."

Blaine and Puck drew together, not apart, murmuring words of comfort amidst kisses:  _you'll come to rehearsal again soon, right? Kurt will bring you back to Lima any time you want to come._ Kurt went upstairs to let his dad know they were leaving, but neither Puck nor Blaine had made very much progress at separating from one another by the time he got back.

Kurt tapped Puck on the shoulder. "I'll be in the Navigator."

He sat in the driver's seat and waited until Blaine emerged from the house to start the car. Blaine looked a little dazed.

"You okay?" Kurt set a hand on his knee.

"Yeah." Blaine shivered. He slipped his hand under Kurt's and intertwined their fingers again, staring through the front window. "Everything's moving so fast."

"I'm sorry?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "Please don't feel sorry for me. It's true, I've never been all that good at judging a situation. I usually feel overwhelmed by  _everything._  And this definitely qualifies as overwhelming. And yet…" Blaine smiled. "It just feels good. It feels  _right._  All those clichés, they're all coming true."

Kurt smiled back, feeling the ache of envy in his chest. "Like love at first sight?"

Blaine put a hand over his face. "You heard him tell me that?"

"No, but I know Noah. He falls hard, or not at all. It was like that with him and Adam. And with us, for that matter, though it took me a while to acknowledge or trust it. I'm not surprised he said  _I love you_  already." He backed the Navigator out of the driveway. "You can take your time saying it back to him."

"I think I'm going to have to," Blaine agreed, letting out a sigh. "He didn't pressure me to say it. And… it's not like I don't feel it, Kurt. For both of you. It's just all so  _new._  I don't know what to do with it."

Kurt felt his own heart beating hard in response to that statement,  _for both of you._  "We have a whole summer to spend together and figure it out, Blaine. You don't have to do anything but experience it. Nobody's going to require anything of you." He paused, then added, "Well, okay, Finn might require something."

Blaine chuckled. "Yeah, I think I don't mind that kind of requirement. Although maybe you don't understand that."

"No, I do," Kurt said. "I don't know if it's the same, exactly, but… sometimes I really want that. From Finn."

"Who wouldn't?" Blaine whispered, and they both broke out into giggles.

Rather than getting back on 75 and going south, the way he usually did, Kurt drove the back roads, Shawnee across the river and south to Bellefontaine. Blaine watched the scenery go by with apparent interest, but he didn't say anything about it until the neighborhoods had subsided and they were surrounded by growing fields and stands of trees.

"I think my mom made me think, growing up, that Lima Heights was somehow… I don't know, prettier, or better somehow, than the east side of Lima? And I resisted that, partly because it felt biased and unfair, even when I was a little boy. But mostly because I hated living here so much, to the point that everything in Lima was ugly and awful to me." He touched the window, gazing out at the landscape as it passed. "And now, I'm back, and… and you're here, and Finn, and Puck, and it's…" He turned to Kurt, his smile wide and thankful. "It's beautiful."

"Personally, I don't think the Ohio landscape is all that exciting," Kurt said.

"I love the lake shore up near Cleveland," said Blaine. "And southern Ohio is really gorgeous. There's hills and forests and all kinds of things to explore. My father spent a lot of effort trying to make me into the kind of man I was supposed to be, which included a lot of backpacking and hiking."

Kurt pulled the car off Bellefontaine onto the shoulder, slowing down far enough away from the house site that they could walk around the back, through the stand of white oaks. He led Blaine down the path and along the perimeter, appreciating the shade after the heat of the morning sun through the windshield.

"Beautiful," Blaine repeated to himself, looking up at the canopy of trees. They quickly broke through to the other side, in view of the construction site, and paused to survey it. Kurt took his hand.

"We're going to have a picnic here on the weekend of July fourth," he said. "A working picnic, probably, if they're ready for us to do some landscaping. You're welcome to come help, if you want."

"Of course I want to come help. Kurt, you're not going to be able to pry me away from your family, now that you've shown me how it feels to be in a house where I'm really accepted for who I am." Blaine shook his head. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have been raised by a father like yours?"

"Yes," said Kurt. "I know."

Blaine held out an arm, making his bicep bulge. "Ah, I get it. You just want to see me get all sweaty and worked up, lifting things for you."

"Uh." Kurt was caught by the image, a little too vivid in his imagination for him to ignore. "I wouldn't  _object,_  exactly."

"Maybe I could take off my shirt. I work out, you know."

Kurt could tell Blaine was just flirting, that the bravado was definitely not serious, but it was also  _working_  on him. He felt a little ashamed of just how  _well_  it was working. He reached out and squeezed Blaine's arm muscles playfully, and ended up making a very real gasp of appreciation. "Wow. You weren't kidding. You could give Noah's guns a run for their money."

"Oh, no, definitely not." Blaine glanced over at the building site. "Can we get closer?"

"Nobody's here to tell us no." They moved in past the caution tape and along the outside of the foundation. He pointed. "That's the front garage, and the porch. We're going to do the façade and the porch foundation in stone, brought up from… from Iowa." Kurt decided this was not the moment to attempt to explain Tessera. "That'll be the library, my dad's office, and that's the foyer."

"It looks like it'll be plenty big enough for everyone." Blaine climbed up on the edge of the foundation and walked along it, balancing effortlessly. "I've always lived in big houses."

"I've always lived where we live now," said Kurt. "It'll be a change, that's for sure. But we're all in need of a change."

They walked further, past the construction site toward the back of the property. Kurt showed him where the plot's border ended, indicating the fields beyond.

"They're still for sale, and I don't think they're likely to subdivide. I know Sarah's hoping we can add on to our property later, but as long as we're not building back there, I don't think anybody's going to care if we visit."

Blaine touched each tree, brushing through the soft undergrowth of dead leaves and grass. "It's really perfect." He broke into a song Kurt didn't know:

_I walked across an empty land  
_ _I knew the pathway like the back of my hand  
_ _I felt the earth beneath my feet  
_ _Sat by the river and it made me complete_

"What's that?" Kurt asked.

"A song I sang with the Warblers this year. They aren't the most positive lyrics I've ever heard, but there's something about having a special place, a place that only you know. You and the person you trust." He smiled. "Santana and I had places like that. So did Dave and I."

Blaine sang on, walking ahead, and Kurt took the opportunity to admire the back of him as he went.

_Oh simple thing where have you gone?  
_ _I'm getting old and I need something to rely on  
_ _So tell me when you're gonna let me in  
_ _I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin  
_ _And if you have a minute why don't we go  
_ _Talk about it somewhere only we know?  
_ _This could be the end of everything  
_ _So why don't we go  
_ _Somewhere only we know_

He turned back to face Kurt. "I want you to come to Westerville to visit in the fall. All of you."

Kurt couldn't help smile. "Now who's moving fast?"

"Like you said, we have all summer," Blaine protested. "But I really don't think I'm going to change my mind, Kurt. Who knows, maybe my father might even approve of you. Crazier things have —" He broke off, then shook his head, laughing. "No, wait. They haven't."

They eventually made their way back to the Navigator parked along the side of the road. Looking through the marshy line of grasses, they could barely even tell there would be a house back there, much less a brand-new one.

"Thank you for being so great with Adam," Kurt told him as they climbed into the car. "You made it really easy for all of us."

Blaine beamed, stretching his legs. "He made it really easy for  _me._  And Jesus, Kurt, I can tell he's one hell of a Top. I felt like he was right there giving me orders, even over the phone. All I wanted to do was listen, and he barely said anything at all."

Kurt accelerated on the shoulder until they reached a safe driving speed. Blaine yawned and closed his eyes.

"You're welcome to take a nap," said Kurt. "Even if it doesn't feel  _hard,_  this level of communication is bound to be  _tiring."_

"Thank you." Blaine opened his eyes again and gave him a sleepy smile. "I'm not that tired. We could sing  _RENT_ , if you have the CD with you?"

"See, Finn always told me you and I would get along," said Kurt, happily switching on the stereo. "That is exactly what we're going to do."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finn & Carl angst, a milestone for Finn & Blaine, and some D/s and threesome sexing with bonus voyeurism.
> 
> -amy

 

Finn brought the mail in with him when he got back from class on Wednesday. The Priority Mail envelope was addressed to "Everyone, Hudson-Hummel-Puckerman," from a PO Box in Los Angeles. Finn knew what that meant. The empty house wasn't going to give him any ideas about what might be in the envelope, but he figured he should at least ask somebody before he opened a package from his boyfriends' boyfriend, no matter who it was addressed to.

 _We got something from Adam,_  he texted Kurt. Puck answered his phone more often now, but he was babysitting Duncan and Cory, and wrangling three kids was enough to keep anyone from replying to a text. Kurt, on the other hand, always answered immediately.

 _Oh, I bet it's the tickets,_  said Kurt.  _Open it?_

Finn pulled the tab and ripped the envelope open, dumping the contents out onto the table.

 _Five tickets?_  Finn asked.  _And a note for you, and one for Noah._ He shuffled the papers, pausing in surprise.  _And one for Blaine._

 _He was very sweet to him on the phone the other day,_  was Kurt's reply.

He poured himself a glass of water and drank before asking the next question.  _Why are some of the tickets different colors?_

_I'm thinking it's because three of them are backstage passes. Those are for me and Blaine and Noah. You get the other two._

Finn shook his head.  _Who exactly am I supposed to take with me? Rachel's still at Oberlin._

_Adam meant for them to be for you and Carl._

He thought, with only a little residual pain, about the conversation they'd had back in early spring about going out on a date somewhere together, further away than Columbus, to a place where no one would know them. Where they could _just be Carl and Finn,_  he'd said. Finn hadn't realized at the time what a dangerous idea that had been — not because they would be at risk of being noticed, but because his heart had become very attached to the idea, very quickly.

 _I don't think I can do that,_  he replied.

 _I think you could,_  said Kurt.  _If you wanted to._

He sighed, leaning his head in his hand, and dialed Carl's number. Yes, he  _wanted_  to. That wasn't the problem — or maybe it was.

It was still startling to call Carl's office and hear Mark's voice instead of Angela's.

" _May I tell him who's calling?"_  Mark asked politely.

It set Finn's teeth on edge, not least because Mark looked more than a little bit like him. He was pretty sure Mark and Carl had known each other for a while, maybe since college. He had to wonder what  _other assorted duties_  were involved in being Carl's slave, even a temporary one.

"It's Finn," he said. "I'll hold."

He had all the time in the world. Summer school was draggingly slow. Now that he was only taking one class, he had plenty of time to study. At least the summer school teacher, Ms. Holliday, was awesome. She made everything so much more funny and entertaining, he barely felt like he was working at learning Spanish at all.

Finn set the phone on the counter on speaker and made himself a sandwich, moving Beth's formula containers aside to reach the cheese on the middle shelf of the fridge.

" _Finn,"_ came Carl's voice. He sounded as brisk and calm as ever, if a little wary, but it still gave him a shock to hear it.  _"How can I help you today?"_

"I have something," Finn said. He willed away the emotions that threatened to get in the way of his proposal. "For you and me. Adam sent us a pair of tickets to his concert in Cleveland on July 9th."

Carl didn't answer immediately. When he did, Finn couldn't detect any hidden emotion.  _"Would you prefer to take one of your boys?"_

"They already have tickets. Better ones than us. I think we're on our own for this."

" _I see. It'd be a pleasure to see Adam in concert. I'm assuming that you'd be all right going with me, then?"_

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, yes. I want to go with you."

There was another silence. Carl cleared his throat.  _"Okay. How about I arrange for transportation?"_

"You mean the Corvette?" Finn wasn't going to ask if he could drive, but just riding in it would be fun. There were too many things he missed. He wasn't going to think about them all.

" _I was thinking about a driver."_

"I'd — rather we just go by ourselves," Finn said. He was not going to sit in a car for an hour and a half with Carl and  _Mark._  "I could drive, if you want. I have a car now."

" _There's no need for that. I can certainly drive. Please tell Adam I appreciate the invitation. We'll talk again before the show about solidifying our plans. Will I see you this week?"_

"Yes sir."

" _Thank you, Finn. Don't forget to bring your meditation log. I want to see your progress. Cómo va tu español?"_

"I'm acing it. Second time around's the charm, I guess. Um, I should probably get going. Thanks again."

Finn didn't quite hang up on him, but it was close to that. He had made it through the whole conversation, all the references to everything in their past and what they were doing now and it was the damn  _Spanish class_  that was going to reduce him to tears.

He sat there at the table, crying into his hands and wiping his eyes, for several minutes before he told himself to stop. Told himself, because Carl wasn't telling him anything anymore.

That wasn't quite true. What Carl was doing for him now was strictly disciplinary. The plug training had continued, because Finn had asked for it. By now he was experienced at resisting the impulses that came over him when he inserted a toy made by Carl's own hand into his ass each day. The flogging and whipping brought him out of his head enough that he felt balanced and reasonably sane, but it was still hard to deal with the aftermath without Carl's arms around him. The one time he'd tried to ask for it, Carl had gently told him  _that's beyond my boundaries._

But Carl hadn't said anything about his boundaries here. They were going to a concert together, in Cleveland, where no one knew them, just like they'd originally planned to do. Was it going to be a date?

 _Maybe it really would be okay_ , Finn thought. He took the tickets and stuck them up on the bulletin board beside the fridge with a pushpin, leaving the letters for Kurt and Puck and Blaine.

Blaine would be here tonight, at least. That gave Finn an enormous charge. Blaine had come to visit twice more this week, driving home with Kurt from rehearsal. Both times, he'd slept in Kurt's bed with Kurt and Puck, and Finn had camped out on the green couch. It felt good to be downstairs. That way he was near enough that if any of them needed him, he'd be there — none of them had, but it had been fine, anyway — and still far enough away that he didn't feel like he was getting in the way of the sex things they wanted to do.

There was something powerful and exciting about watching Blaine get worked up about Puck and Kurt. It was almost like it didn't matter anymore that he wasn't involved, because  _his_  boys, doing things together, made him nothing but smug and satisfied.

Well, okay, it was a huge turn-on, too. He couldn't feel too guilty about jerking off on the couch while the three of them were together in Kurt's bedroom. It didn't matter whether or not he could hear what they were doing; he  _knew_  what they were doing. And chances were pretty good he'd get a play-by-play from Puck the next day, if he wanted one — which would get Puck riled up all over again, and Finn would have a reasonable excuse for wanting to climb on top of him and screw him senseless. Not that he needed a reason to want to do that.

Eventually, the image of Blaine and Kurt and Puck together settled his brain enough that he stopped crying. He didn't need to think about Carl anymore. He would eat his lunch, do his homework, and wait for his boys to come home.

* * *

"The driveway is still a pretty scary place," Finn warned. Kurt obliged by slowing down as they approached the house site.

"It'll be fine," Kurt said. He looked over at Finn, jiggling his knee in the front seat beside him, and smiled. "You can just relax, you know? It's a picnic."

"I know it's a picnic." Puck's food notwithstanding, it wasn't a formal event or anything. But Finn felt as nervous and excited as he would have if it had been a graduation party. Sarah had been a good partner in crime, helping him get the space ready and keeping the details a secret.

"Just let me know what I can do to help," said Blaine. He held his potluck donation on his lap: a bowl of baked beans, contributed by his mother.

She, at least, seemed to be all right with Blaine dating a boy from Lima, even if she only knew about one of them. Blaine's father, on the other hand, didn't know about  _any_  of them. Finn couldn't figure out how Mr. Anderson could be both gay and also so full of judgment for his son. It made him angry enough that he was kind of grateful Blaine hadn't introduced them yet.

"You can help me carry the sausages and steak to the grill," said Finn.

Kurt looked over at him curiously. "You brought your grill out here?"

Puck let out a shout of laughter, tapping on the window.

"Holy shit, Finn. Did you do all this by yourself?"

"Not all of it." They climbed out of the Navigator onto the rocky parking area, where the construction equipment and trailer sat silent. Nobody was working on Fourth of July weekend, but the field beyond the road, where there had been little more than scrub grass, had been transformed. Finn had cultivated the ground as well as he could manage. A little further in, he'd erected a standing pavilion tent as shade against the hot July sun, and set up a fiberglass picnic table underneath. The gas grill was in the shade of the nearest of the oaks. On the far side, there was a double border of annuals in a rainbow array of colors, with a bird feeder and a bench in the center.

Puck surveyed the makeshift yard with obvious delight, carrying Beth's car seat in one hand and his personal kitchen tools in the other. "This is fucking awesome."

Finn nodded, pleased by his reaction. "Sarah did the planning, but my mom did the actual gardening. I think she wants a pond or a bird bath or something eventually."

After they unloaded all the food and plastic dishes from the back of the Navigator, Kurt and Blaine spread a thick blanket on top of the ground, half of it extending under the pavilion. Then Kurt unbuckled Beth from her carrier, lifting her out to rest in the shade of the blanket and blink up at the sky.

"Kurt," called Puck, "where's that spice rub container I put together last night? And the marinade?"

Kurt sighed, looking between Beth and Puck. Blaine bent down, easily scooping her up.

"I can take her for a while," he offered.

Kurt was obviously relieved. "Are you sure?"

"I've been spending time with her this week. I think I've got the hang of it. Why don't I take a walk around the property?" He looked up at Finn. "You want to come with me?"

"Sure," said Finn, feeling startled, but he moved to stand beside Blaine immediately. A walk sounded like exactly what he needed.

"It's not that large," said Kurt. He shooed them away, already heading for Puck and the grill. "Dad and Carole will be here in a half hour. I'll shout at you if I need any support."

Blaine looked completely at ease carrying Beth. He plucked off her socks before she could complain about them and tucked them into the pocket of his twill shorts as they headed toward the edge of the property.

"You did all this for us," he said, smiling at Finn.

Finn grinned, his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, I guess I did."

"You can be proud." His eyes were teasing. "It's your place."

"My place to be proud?" Finn scuffed the ground with the sole of his shoe. "It's not  _that_  nice."

"No," laughed Blaine. "Your  _place._  It's your home. You're taking care of it, like you —"

The way Blaine cut himself off made Finn step in closer, reaching for him and resting a hand on his back. It was strange to feel Blaine beside him at the same time that Beth was there. She turned her wobbly head, watching Finn.

"I want to," said Finn. Blaine shivered slightly.

"I want you to. You are. I mean, I'm not saying you're not. I'm saying —" He took a deep breath. "I've been thinking. About what we did in Carl's office last month."

Thinking about  _that_  in any detail, here in the warmth of the afternoon, was going to make Finn more than a little dizzy. He moved them further toward the shade. "All right?"

"Yeah. I — I don't exactly know what you thought about it, but…" Blaine looked up at him, watching his face for cues. Finn kept his expression carefully neutral. "There were things that happened? I think we need to talk about it."

There had been a lot of things, but the only one Finn could think about at the moment was Blaine, cuffed and helpless, as he shot his load against the front of Carl's leather couch while Finn spanked him. Finn swallowed on a dry throat. "Okay. What — what do you want to talk about?"

Blaine stopped in the shade of the stand of oaks, facing him, his expression resolute. "I've been thinking about it a lot, and I think… I think I might need that."

"Need what?" Finn was kind of amazed his voice wasn't cracking into a million pieces.

"That kind of… what we were trying to get to. That kind of…" Blaine was clearly embarrassed, but he pressed on. "That kind of deep submission. I didn't exactly get there. I mean, I got  _somewhere_ , but I…"

"I think I understand," said Finn. Right there, with Blaine's face six inches from his, asking for  _that…_ it was all he could do not to twist his arms behind his back and march him off to the Navigator. "It wasn't about that kind of release."

Blaine hung his head. "It wasn't supposed to be."

"Blaine, I think you thought you have this idea you were bad for letting go like that. But  _I_  think it was exactly what you needed to do."

Blaine's relief was palpable. "So that… what happened, that was — okay? I didn't completely weird you out?"

"No, no." Finn put his arms around him loosely, mindful of Beth against his chest. "It was fine."

"Because I think I could have let go more, if I hadn't been so hung up on worrying about that," he said. "And I think I understand myself better, what I need, now that I've… after meeting Puck and Kurt. I know what I  _want."_

"I'm really glad to hear that." Finn brushed his cheek against Blaine's forehead, and Blaine sighed in pleasure. "Don't worry about what you want. Whatever it is, we all want you to have it."

Blaine laughed. "I think that sounds a little too good to be true. But I'll try to be more forthcoming with telling you when I need something. I trust you." He put his hand over Finn's chest. "It was okay, with Carl there, but I think… it would be better if it was just us."

"Yeah," Finn said immediately, feeling better. "That's what I want, too."

The way Blaine looked at him, shy and hopeful and a little goofy, melted his heart at the same time it inspired a lot of other feelings. "Yeah?"

"Well, yeah. Being there with Carl taught me some things, though. I think some of those triggers we were using helped you let go. You know, the collar, the lead, all the formal positions? That stuff would drive Puck nuts, but… I think you liked it."

Blaine blushed, looking away. "Yes."

Finn followed his instinct, reaching for Blaine's face and drawing it back to meet his eyes. Blaine stared up at Finn, ignoring Beth's mild fussing.

"Yes?" Finn asked softly. He waited.

"Yes," Blaine echoed. "S-sir."

He brushed Blaine's loose curls behind his ear. "That's my good boy."

"That's okay too?" Blaine asked. He sounded a little desperate. "I can call you that? I don't want to do anything you don't want."

Finn had to laugh. He pulled Blaine as close as he dared with Beth between them. "Trust me, I'll tell you very clearly if you do anything I don't want. You can do that."

Blaine let out a shuddery sigh, resting his head on Finn's chest. "All right."

"Say it again," said Finn.

It was impulsive, asking for it like that, but Blaine immediately said, "Yes, sir," and Finn found himself responding with a little noise. Blaine laughed again, clearly relieved.

"You're going to let me do that?"

"No," said Finn, with emphasis. "I'm going to require it."

Blaine's ragged breathing was loud in his ear. Finn could have turned his head and kissed him, could have done so much more than that, but he knew that wasn't where Blaine needed to go at the moment. He maintained his position, holding him against him, until Blaine relaxed.

"Are you sure?" The question came out in a whisper.

" _Blaine."_

"Oh." Blaine caught his breath. "Yes, sir."

Finn released him, taking his hand before Blaine could protest. He looked overwhelmed.

"Can you wait until after the picnic?" Finn asked. "For me to give you a spanking?"

The answer was slow in coming, but at last, Blaine nodded. "Yes. Sir."

"I'll take care of you before bed. Just remember that. You can have a good time here, knowing that I'll be there for you, back at the house."

"Can I —" Blaine bit his lip, his hazel eyes so full of doubt. Finn could scarcely bear to see it.

"Ask for what you want."

Blane's cheeks were scarlet. "May I sleep with you tonight? Please?"

"Yeah." He clasped Blaine's hand, holding it between the two of them, because if he took him back into his arms, he wasn't going to want to let go. "You've been wanting that?" Not  _you'd rather sleep with me than with Puck and Kurt,_  because that would make it sound like it was a competition, and he really didn't want that.

"I don't sleep nearly as well without you," Blaine admitted.

Finn smiled. "You think that's a shameful thing?" He let Blaine flounder with an answer before adding in a whisper, "I miss sleeping with you, too."

"Yeah?" Blaine smiled tentatively back. "I don't know how we could do that more often, but… I wish we could. The way it was at Toby's, and with you in Kurt's bed, that was so nice. But I know Puck sleeps better with me. Plus, you're kind of short on beds at your house right now."

Finn looked across the yard to where Kurt was stretched out on the blanket in the sun, one arm flung over his face, and Puck was twirling his spatula over the webbing of his thumb. "Kurt's bed's not really big enough for all four of us."

Blaine was silent for an extended series of heartbeats. Finn let him struggle with the idea.

"It's not that I don't —" Blaine said. He patted Beth's back. After another moment, he tried again. "I love sleeping with Puck and Kurt, too. But I think — no, I  _know —_  things would… happen. And I wouldn't want you to feel anything bad about that."

"I wouldn't feel bad," Finn assured him. "They're  _my_ boyfriends too, Blaine. If you didn't want there to be anything sexual, there wouldn't be, but if there was, none of us would mind. It would just be up to you to say that you were uncomfortable."

"I don't think I would be uncomfortable," he said. He shook his head, smiling. "The idea is… magical. But the bed, you're right, it's too small for three, much less four."

Finn nodded. "So how about tonight, I get my sleeping bag and the blow-up mattress, and make a space on the floor in Kurt's room. Then when you're ready to sleep, you can just come lie down with me."

They were almost back to the pavilion. Blaine slowed his steps, hanging back in the shade, away from view of the rest of the family. "You'd do that?"

"It sounds pretty good to me." Finn kept his voice very matter-of-fact. He was determined to make this work for Blaine. Whatever weirdness there might be about listening to Blaine and Puck and Kurt having sex, he could deal with that himself. He didn't need to make it anybody else's issue. "You'd be right there if Puck had trouble sleeping."

Blaine cocked his head, thinking. "He did talk about how much trouble he has sleeping sometimes, but I haven't seen it."

"What do you mean, you haven't seen it?"

"He sleeps fine when he's with me?" Blaine shrugged, clearly thinking this was no big deal. Finn stared at him for another moment, then smiled.

"Must be that he's so wiped out by the time you're done with him —"

"Oh my  _god,"_  Blaine cried, rolling his eyes. "You're not going to make this a sex joke. Not after the stories I've heard about the three of  _you."_

"You should hear the stories about them and  _Adam."_  Finn nudged him in the ribs, making him protest and dodge away. "C'mon, let's deliver Beth to my mom. I brought a croquet set, if you know how to play that."

"Croquet." That settled him down, and he smiled.

"It was Sarah's idea. She guessed Kurt would like that."

Blaine seemed calmer, which was always a relief. His reaction to Finn suggesting the use of the word  _sir_  could have been a lot worse, but it seemed that was going to be okay, too. They'd figure out the specifics later. Finn thought, not for the first time, that he was going to have to find a space for discipline, soon. There was only so much he could do at the house with everyone else around.

Finn let Blaine dig the croquet set out of the car while he went over to Kurt, talking to his mom. She was holding a flat of bright red flowers.

"I'm not going to add them now," she was saying. "I just couldn't pass up the sale. They were practically free, so we can enjoy them as long as they survive." She smiled at him. "Hi, honey. Everything looks wonderful."

"Puck was totally surprised." He tugged on Kurt's sleeve. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, I have sunblock?" Kurt guessed. "Yes, I brought You-Hoo? Yes, Blaine can spend the night with you?"

"Actually, I was thinking I'd crash in your room on the air mattress. You really brought You-Hoo?"

"Would I joke about your chocolate fixation?" Kurt closed the space between the two of them. It felt so familiar and easy and so mutually enjoyable, they both just stood there for a minute, appreciating it. "You're going to sleep in my room with Blaine?"

"He wants to  _sleep_  with me. He wants to do  _other_  stuff with you. I mean, I can come in later if that would be less weird."

Kurt shrugged. "This is already totally weird, being outside and letting you hug me."

"Nobody's around for a quarter mile in any direction," Finn pointed out. "Except for the cars going sixty down Bellefontaine. I doubt they'll be looking."

"I know. I think we're safe. It's a good weird."

"I really understand good weird."

Kurt sighed. "Okay, I don't think it would be bad weird, having you in the room. If you don't think it would be bad weird for you?"

"That actually wasn't my question. I was going to ask what you thought about Blaine being there while I cuffed Puck to the bed tonight."

"Oh. Oh, wow. That would  _definitely…_ " Kurt shook his head, looking dazed. "To tell you the truth, I have no idea how he'd react."

 _Blaine called me sir,_  Finn wanted to say, feeling the significance of it, but he wasn't going to bring it up with Kurt while they were at the picnic. "I think he needs to see us do it and find out. And I think Puck really could use it."

Kurt probed him with his eyes. "You saw Carl on Thursday, right?"

"I'm all right," Finn said, trying not to make it dismissive. Kurt knew what he needed as well as anyone — and he was right, of course. "Yeah. I did. We'll see how Blaine responds to seeing my lash marks. Maybe I should keep my shirt on."

"You could ask him. Or at least prepare him." Kurt reached up and laid a fond hand on Finn's cheek. "You are amazing, putting this all together. Thank you."

"I'm really glad you like it. I wanted it to be perfect."

"Perfect." Kurt raised an eyebrow. "That's a tall order." He sang one of the songs P!nk had sung with them at Adam's house, making Finn smile:

_Mistaken, always second guessing, underestimating  
_ _Look, I'm still around_

"Perfect doesn't mean no mistakes," Finn said. "It just means… where I belong, right here, right now. Which is pretty much how I feel about you."

Kissing Kurt there on the grass did feel kind of weird, but definitely not bad weird. Finn was able to let the weird get swallowed up by the sensation of Kurt's mouth and hands, and to stop trying not to be turned on by being close to Blaine and to let himself be turned on by being close to Kurt.

"Um," said Blaine.

They turned to face him. Kurt held onto Finn with a firm grip, not letting him step away. "Is it time to eat?"

"Yeah, Puck said we could come to the grill with our plates." Blaine was grinning. "Actually, what he said was,  _Tell the guys to stop macking and let me sling some meat into their buns."_

Kurt snorted. "Did he  _actually_  say that, or did you just want to have an excuse to say it yourself?"

"Me?" said Blaine, touching his chest, his eyes widening, a picture of innocence. "I have no idea what you're… oh, look, a squirrel."

They followed Blaine to the picnic table to get their plates, Kurt holding Finn's hand. He was tall enough now that he could swing it a little as they walked.

"It already feels like home," Kurt told him. "This space, the way the driveway is tucked behind the grass and opens to the front. I think once construction is done, we should plant a big tree right  _there."_ He pointed toward the road. "Next to the mailbox."

"Sarah will tell you what can go where. I'm surprised she even let my mom plant things. She liked the birdhouse, though." He gave Kurt's hand a squeeze before letting it go.

"I know you want Blaine here," said Kurt. "And I'm glad it's not weird, or at least not bad-weird. If there's anything you'd rather we not do tonight, you can tell me that."

All the thoughts Finn was able to entertain regarding Blaine in Kurt's room definitely involved the word  _do_  more than the word  _don't_. Thinking about them was far more stimulating than he needed at the moment. He brought to bear his training, and focused his thoughts on something other than Blaine and Kurt and Puck in bed together.

"If I think of anything, I'll let you know," he told Kurt.

* * *

" _My heart stops… when you look at me… just one touch… now baby I believe…"_

Blaine sang the whole time he was getting ready for bed, even while he was brushing his teeth. Kurt and Puck kept looking at one another, then at the bathroom door, and laughing. Finn knew they weren't teasing him, so he didn't say anything about it. After all the performing they'd done together that spring, Blaine's singing was as familiar to him as Kurt's or Puck's.

"Is your cousin Katy really going to include that on her new album?" Blaine stuck his head out from the bathroom. "I can't get it out of my head."

"I haven't talked to her since the reunion," said Finn. He turned off the inflator and screwed the cap onto the mattress, testing it with one hand. "I guess we'll find out in August when the album comes out."

"You think she'd mind if I sang it with the Warblers?"

"Oh, wow. I have no idea, but… I could ask?" He laughed. "I told her about Puck and Kurt this summer. Her only response was,  _I'll send you a wedding invitation for Finn Hudson and guest and guest._  Maybe she could add another guest to that."

Blaine looked a lot less overwhelmed by this idea than he would have a couple weeks ago. Finn thought he might be getting used to the strange dynamics of their family pretty quickly. He felt a rush of pride for his boy.

But when he walked into the bathroom to brush his own teeth, Blaine was standing there silently, looking at the hickory box on the counter. It was the larger one, the one with the drawer in the bottom that held a wicked paddle. The top lid was open, and Blaine could see the row of plugs of increasing size. The one that was missing was not enormous, but it wasn't small either. He looked up at Finn with guilt all over his face.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I just — I thought it was a jewelry box."

Finn made himself smile. "It's something Carl made for me. Part of my disciplinary training."

Blaine's eyes strayed back to the plug-shaped indentation in the velvet. "You mean you're—" He stopped before the sentence went any further.

"Blaine. It's okay. You can ask whatever you want."

"I don't want to make you… upset." Blaine looked up at him with anxious determination. "But I know that relationship meant so much to you. I just can't understand why you'd want to give it up."

"It wasn't good for us," he said. "It didn't matter how good it felt. It wasn't giving either of us what we needed."

Blaine nodded. He carefully closed the box. Then he turned and hugged Finn, hard, and Finn's arms automatically came around to enfold him. Blaine smelled so good this close against him. Finn made himself stay calm.

"I'm sorry," Blaine whispered.

"It's okay, b-Blaine." He'd found himself doing that more and more often. The more he heard Kurt's and Puck's endearments for Blaine, the less point he saw in trying to mask his own. But Blaine had told him no. He'd said,  _I don't want that from you._

Kurt was still applying his moisturizer when they came out of the bathroom. Puck paused for a kiss from Blaine before taking his turn brushing his teeth.

"You're sure this is okay with your father?" Blaine asked.

"He can't be hypocritical if he let Adam Lambert sleep in this bed with us," said Kurt. "He likes you, Blaine, but that's beside the point. It's my room; I get to make the rules."

Finn tucked sheets over a blanket on top of the air mattress and spread the top sheet and another blanket over that. He put two pillows at the head. Then he stood up and went to Kurt's bed, beside where Blaine was waiting.

"I have to ask you something," said Finn. He picked up the chains fastened to the bed and held them up for Blaine to see. Kurt put down his cup of thick, creamy moisturizer as Blaine took a step back, his eyes enormous.

"Oh, Finn," he said, sounding panicked, "I really can't."

"Not for you, Blaine. For Puck. I want you to have a chance to be around him when he's in that state, but if it makes you uncomfortable, we don't have to do it tonight."

Blaine looked at the chains, then back at the bathroom. "Doesn't he get a say?"

Finn had to smile. "No, he doesn't."

"Are you — are you going to use  _that_  on him?" Blaine was indicating the paddle beside their pillow with a brief nod of his head.

"I might," Kurt said. Blaine blinked, turning to face him. "I'm usually the one who chooses the paddle. Finn tends to use a flogger on Noah."

"Oh." He sounded a little faint. "Yes. All right. I can — um. I'm not sure what I would do, while you were doing that?"

"You'll have to decide what you can handle."

Finn could tell Blaine wasn't in any position to be making decisions. He took him by the hand and led him over to the bathroom, where Puck was standing shirtless in front of the mirror, shaving his head.

"Set that down," he told him. Puck did so, watching him with curiosity. "Now get on the bed. Kurt's going to get your collar."

Puck hesitated long enough that Finn reached out and swatted him. It was a loud blow, if not a hard one, and Blaine flinched at Puck's startled  _"Hey!"_

"Beth's with Shelby. We're not going to waste this opportunity. On the bed, on your knees. I won't tell you again."

Puck didn't move. He looked carefully at Blaine's worried face.

"Are you going to be okay with this?" he asked. His voice was so gentle.

"Yes," said Blaine. He nodded, taking Puck's hands. "I'm okay with it. I never want to stand in the way of you being who you are."

That simple sentiment seemed to rock Puck back, and as he went to kneel on the bed, it was in a mood of contemplation. He waited in silence while Kurt took out his collar and buckled it around his neck.

"My good boy." Kurt kissed Puck once before turning to Blaine. "Why don't you sit on the bed next to him."

Puck avoided Blaine's gaze, keeping his eyes on his lap, but he accepted Blaine sitting close beside him. Blaine reached over and touched the tattoo on Puck's chest. He knew what it meant by now, and he'd seen all three of theirs. Finn turned off the light in the bathroom, closed the door, and went to sit cross-legged on the air mattress.

"Do you think you could make a space for him to be on all fours?" Kurt asked.

Blaine immediately moved to the side while Puck turned and knelt. His breathing was a little heavier now, but he remained calm enough.

"Noah," began Kurt.

"Do you," interrupted Blaine, and waited, looking up at Kurt. At first Kurt thought Blaine was asking him a question, but he turned back to Puck. "Do you have anything you want to let go of?"

Finn almost laughed to hear the question coming from Blaine. Kurt looked astounded. He lowered the paddle.

"Go on, Noah," he said.

"I —" Puck took a while to come up with some words. Finn couldn't tell for certain, but he didn't think it was because he was falling into subspace. He sounded sober and calm when he spoke, not upset. "I called Adam this morning and Tommy picked up. He said it was too early and I shouldn't call, and I told him to get off the fucking phone and let it go to voice mail."

"Mmmm." Kurt ran a hand over Puck's back. "You have a sense of why he did that?"

"Because it was early," Puck said. He took a calming breath, but Finn could see his head wasn't dropping, and he hadn't responded to Kurt's touch the way he usually did. "He was probably up late the night before. I could've called back later. Or asked him what time I should call back. I was just pissed that he answered Adam's phone."

"You might call and apologize tomorrow. He's Adam's friend."

"Yes, sir."

Blaine didn't look upset by any of this exchange, but when Kurt picked up the paddle again and rested it on Puck's back, he looked over at Finn. "He knows what he did wrong."

"He does sometimes," Finn agreed softly.

"So why can't he just apologize and be done with it?"

Puck was the one to chuckle. "That's like saying knowing tape will fix a rip is as good as fixing it. I'm not gonna feel it until they give me a chance to — to rip apart, so they can tape me back together."

Blaine stroked Puck's head, still looking thoughtful. "But you're not doing that. You're not. Is he?" This last was aimed at Finn.

"Not yet," said Finn.

Kurt's first four blows yielded little response — as did the next four, and the next. Puck bore the impact, but he was clearly not submitting to it.

"Noah," Kurt said, trying not to sound exasperated.

"I'm sorry." Puck really did sound sorry. "I'm not trying to be an asshole."

Finn stood up, walking over to the bed and reaching over Puck to take Blaine's hand. "Come with me."

Blaine looked startled, but he followed Finn obediently back to the air mattress. When Puck tried to turn his head to watch Blaine, Kurt spoke sharply. "Eyes on me. We're going to work on your focus."

Puck made a deep, possessive noise in his chest. Kurt grasped Puck's neck and thrust it into the bed, pushing him off-balance.

"Focus," Kurt said again, his voice sweet and light as always.

Puck exhaled through the next six swats, and he didn't voice any kind of objection. Finn gathered Blaine in close. If he overwhelmed his senses, Blaine wouldn't have any choice but to let go.

He hummed into Blaine's ear, speaking to him closely. "You'll stay here with me while Noah gets what he needs."

"Yes sir," Blaine whispered back. "His collar."

"Yes," said Finn. "Do you wish you had yours?"

"Yeah." His face was red. Finn could see Puck watching them out of the corner of his eye, his head suspended low between his shoulders, while Kurt worked him over with the paddle.

"I'm going to get it for you, all right? Stay on the bed. Kurt and Puck, they're right here." Finn scrambled off the bed, watching Blaine as he went. Blaine huddled against the pillow, his arms around his knees, and kept his eyes fixed on Kurt's paddle.

His mom was in the kitchen, but she didn't say anything as he edged past her into Puck's room. Blaine's collar was in the top drawer of Puck's dresser. Finn picked it up, glancing behind him into the kitchen, and tucked it under his shirt. Then he huffed in exasperation and brought it out again, holding it firmly in both hands.  _I have nothing to hide,_  he told himself.

His mom took one look at the collar and looked away in a hurry, turning her attention back to the sink. Finn ignored her right back, though his face was flaming, and walked determinedly downstairs.

He paused outside Kurt's room, listening to the faint, urgent noises on the other side. They were familiar enough, but knowing Blaine was in there made it so much more intense.

For a moment, he wasn't sure if he could do it.  _They'll be fine without me,_  he thought, his eyes closed. Then he heard Kurt say, "Blaine," once, very firmly, and without thinking, he grasped the doorknob and went right in.

Everyone was where they had been minutes before. Puck was still on the bed, his back arched and quivering; Kurt was standing beside him, the paddle hovering above his behind. Blaine was on the air mattress, wedged against the pillow. He had both hands over his mouth, and his eyes were glistening.

"Here," Finn said, moving to sit beside him. In one swift motion, he buckled the collar around Blaine's neck. Blaine sucked in a breath, like a gasp, and his arms went around Finn and did not let go. Finn could feel each inhalation and exhalation against the curve of his neck.

First Kurt, then Puck, sighed. It was a settled sound. After that, Puck bore the paddle in silence — until Kurt tossed it onto the pillow and climbed on top of him with a growl.

Finn knew how much Kurt appreciated being watched. At one point, riding Puck hard, he sent such a smoldering look toward Blaine that Finn felt it like a physical blow. Blaine squirmed and moaned quietly, but he did not move from Finn's arms, not even when Puck began making noises that clearly indicated enjoyment.

Finn tucked him in tighter. "You doing okay?" he whispered.

Blaine nodded. "They're… they're really…"

"Yeah," Finn agreed. "I know."

He turned his face toward the bed, yearning toward them. Finn took Blaine's hands, unwinding them from around his waist, and held his wrists bound. Blaine blinked at him.

"Go to them. I'll be here."

He hesitated. "I don't think they need me."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean you don't get to enjoy being with them. Puck got what he needed… and so did Kurt." He grinned, watching Blaine's eyes dilate. "I bet they'd totally love to take care of you together."

"But I'm —" Blaine swallowed, licking his lips. He glanced down, then back up at Finn. "I'm yours."

"Yeah. You are." Finn ran a finger over Blaine's collar, watching his eyelids drop shut. Then he looked over at Puck, trapped beneath Kurt's body on the bed. Puck was watching them with this amazing expression on his face, satisfaction mixed with desire and a kind of hunger Finn didn't quite know what to do with.

Finn felt that pride surge through him again. Then he helped Blaine unfold from his embrace and got him to his feet.

"You're mine," he said, "and so are they. I'm telling you, I want the three of you together right now. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir." Blaine didn't look back. He went right to Puck and knelt down beside him. Puck slowly raised up on his elbows, reaching for Blaine's face, and cupped his head as he pulled him into a kiss.

"So good," Finn heard Kurt say, still kneeling on top of Puck. Blaine's whimper dug into Finn, staying with him long after Kurt and Puck had made a space for him in their bed. Kurt sat back while Puck situated Blaine beneath him, lifting his knees up to his chest and stroking him at the same time. When Blaine's uneven breathing turned to cries, Puck reached for the lube.

Finn watched the rhythm of the three of them until he couldn't stand it any more. As quietly as he could, he rolled off the other side of the air mattress and took the five steps to the bathroom. He managed to close the door behind himself without any noise at all. The sounds in the bedroom were muffled, but plenty of it filtered through the door.

Finn took down his pajama pants, already damp in patches from his hard, leaking cock. He put one foot up on the toilet seat and, with two practiced fingers, pressed into his ass and drew out Carl's plug.

The routine of wiping, washing and sanitizing was one he did almost every day. It was something he could do without thinking, and for that he was grateful. He wasn't about to neglect the toy Carl had crafted for him, but all his attention was on the sounds of Kurt, Puck and Blaine. Only once the plug had been replaced inside the velvet-lined box did Finn take his own cock in his hand. He relied on the noises coming from the other side of the door to muffle his own groans as he came.

He knew there was no point in trying to pretend he hadn't done what he'd done, but he still felt mortified when Kurt came in while he was washing his hands.

"Shower with me?" Kurt said softly.

They climbed into the stall together, soaping one another in silence. Whatever sounds were still being made in the bedroom, they were masked by the noise of the water.

"I'm okay," Finn said, watching Kurt's doubtful expression. "Really, I am. That was — really awesome."

"If you say so," Kurt said. He kissed Finn. "You're allowed to be jealous. For whatever reason."

"I'm not! Seriously. That's not how it is." He pointed his finger at the bedroom. "Puck, tonight. He wasn't going to submit until he knew Blaine was getting what  _he_  needed."

Kurt nodded. "I think it's like how it is when Beth's here. He has to know she's in good hands before he can let go."

"Yeah. It's the same with Blaine. Blaine is —" He had to laugh, shaking his head ruefully, but he couldn't quite say the words aloud.  _Blaine is Puck's boy._

"You could have stayed in the bedroom. You don't have to feel guilty about being turned on by what we did."

"It's not that. Okay, that's a little weird, but it's not  _just_  that." Finn turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, taking his towel down from the tallest hook on the back of the door. "You know I'm still… using the plugs."

"Yes. I know."

He sat down heavily on the toilet seat. "Carl would never let me get turned on with them in. He said, right from the beginning, it wasn't about that. It was  _discipline._  He was training me to resist my own impulses. I couldn't let myself… not while I was wearing it."

"It's okay," Kurt said softly. He dried Finn's hair with gentle, familiar rubs of his towel. "I understand now."

"Are they okay out there?" Finn asked.

Kurt shrugged. "I would have expected Noah to be asleep by now, but he seemed to be completely invested in giving Blaine whatever he wants."

"Taking what he wants, you mean."

He laughed. "Same difference."

"You think?"

Kurt extracted a clean towel from the stack on the shelf. "You know Noah better than anyone. Don't you think his goal is  _giving?_  Even with Blaine. He's loving it, making him happy." He took Finn's hand. "However long they take. I'll stay with you in your bed until they're done."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the part of the story not about the boys. If you can't deal with Will and Toby strutting and angsting, you can safely skip it. There's a little Kurt in the middle, though, and Blaine at the end. 
> 
> -amy

 

Toby sat on the floor of the vacant dressing room they were using for dance practices, sunglasses still on even though the light was dim, nursing a killer headache and a double caramel latte. It was so much sweeter than the sugar-free one he usually drank, but adding fake sugar to his already topsy-turvy stomach hadn't felt like a good choice. He was trying to stretch, but every time he moved his head throbbed.

"Are you almost done in here?" Even Darius' low melodic voice was grating to Toby's ears, and he glared up at him as he poked his head through the door. "We should go over the Santa Fe blocking again. It sucked yesterday."

"Just a few more minutes, please." Toby groaned and closed his eyes against the sliver of light from the hallway.

"Rough night?"

"Fuckin' migraine." Toby brought his feet together in front of him in a butterfly stretch and focused on breathing through the pain even as he pushed his knees to the floor. Dancing was going to be a bitch and a half. He didn't even want to think about the singing. "Please. Close the door and give me another few minutes of quiet. The  _children_ ," he nodded to the hall, where he could hear Kurt and Blaine singing and Beth fussing, "aren't helping."

"Those  _children_  are carrying this show," Darius said dryly, leaning on the door frame. "You're crazy if you think otherwise. We're not gelling here, you and me." He frowned reproachfully. "What kind of a production of  _RENT_  is it when Angel and Collins can barely look each other in the eye?"

Toby flicked his sunglasses up onto his forehead and squinted at Darius. "Angel might not have such a problem looking Collins in the eye if Collins would keep his eyes off his damn fiancé."

"Yeah, okay, I'll go there." Darius pushed into the room, letting the door slam shut behind him. He stared down at Toby with heavy lids. "Your fiancé doesn't seem to mind  _my eyes_."

"He's not up for grabs, no matter what kind of message you  _think_  he's giving you." Toby tried to keep his voice low, because  _damn,_ everything hurt. "And trust me. If Will were giving you a message, you'd know it."

"You seem to think I'm looking for something from Will. You need to get over yourself. You might be his boyfriend, but you're not his keeper. He's a grown man; he gets to decide who he talks to. And what he looks at." Darius' lips twisted into a sneer, and he gave Toby an unflattering once-over. "I think you're used to being the only gay man in his life, and now that you're not anymore, it's scaring the shit out of you."

"You don't know shit about me. Or about Will, or what we've each been through to get here." Toby cursed the way these stupid headaches made him feel, like he was see-through. He pushed his sunglasses back down so Darius couldn't see the tears in his eyes. "You're right. I ain't his keeper. And he is a grown man, and I  _do_ trust him. I just don't trust  _you_."

Darius moved in a step, two. He had a peculiar smile on his face. "Exactly what do you think I'm trying to do?"

"Do you really want to know what I think?" Toby tried to fill his words with acid, but he couldn't manage the posturing necessary for his best Ice Queen voice, not on barely two hours of sleep in any case.

"Please." Darius settled onto the edge of the piano bench. "Since we're apparently sailing on the Good Ship Brutal Honesty this morning."

Toby sipped at his latte, letting the extra-hot coffee burn a trail down his throat. "You and me, we're a lot alike. The touring, always moving. Transient. I bet you've had your share of love em' and leave em' affairs." He laughed, waved his hand in the air. "We're handsome men. We leave broken hearts everywhere. But we're hard to settle." Toby waited for Darius to nod before he continued. "William, he's who settles me. Has been since we were little boys, didn't even know  _ourselves_  back then. I think -" Toby let the hardness of the consonant ricochet in the tiny room. "- that you see that settling energy in Will, and you want that for yourself. You may not admit it, but you want it.  _But you ain't getting it from Will."_ Toby growled out the last sentence and even though he didn't want to move, he dropped forward and touched his nose to his feet, feeling every vertebra in his back crack and settle on his way down.

Darius considered him in stillness for a long moment. Then finally he nodded, slowly. "I won't deny there's a certain... appeal to a man like Will. Maybe I am looking for something like that for myself. But - Toby... you can't expect to be watching out for how he's going to react to other men all your life. You're going to have decide if you're sure he  _wants_  to stay with you. Or else get out of his way and let him make his own fucking decisions." He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not looking to steal him from you... but if he makes the choice, I'm not going to say no. You say you trust him. So prove it."

Toby rose from his stretch and circled his head. Instead of making him feel sick, the pounding felt oddly good. He took another swallow of coffee, and rose to his feet, shaking his limbs as he moved. "You're a cocky bastard, you know that?" Darius had laid down a gauntlet, and Toby knew he didn't have any choice but to go along.

"Yeah," Darius smirked. "So my ex-wife and a trail of ex-boyfriends from Atlanta to Chicago have told me."

Toby crossed the space between them in three long strides, and twisted a hand into the front of Darius' t-shirt to haul him up off the piano bench. "Well. I'm a cocky bastard, too, and two can play this game. I'm not going down without a fight, and my daddy taught me how to come out swinging."

He snaked his free hand around to the back of Darius' head, let his fingers brush through the tangle of braids at the base of Darius' neck. Then he leaned in and kissed Darius hard on the mouth, making him gasp, before pulling away and striding out of the room.

"Don't say later that I didn't warn you," he called with a smug wave, leaving behind Darius, stunned, leaning on the piano.  _First point goes to me._

* * *

While Puck walked Beth back and forth across the back of the auditorium, Will and Shelby sat in the audience, watching Darius and Toby stalk each other across the stage like they were hunting wild game. Clayton was giving them patient direction, but they weren't following it very well.

"Are you sure they read that right?" Shelby said, leafing through her script. "I don't think Angel and Collins ever say  _that_  to each other."

"I think Angel is having  _issues_  with Collins," Will smirked. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed. They really don't like each other."

"They both like you, though," Shelby teased, flipping her ponytail back over her shoulder.

Will flushed at the tone of her voice. "Darius and I are just friends. We have a lot in common."

"That never stopped anyone before." Shelby stared at him, and Will shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I'm  _engaged_  to Toby," he said. "I wouldn't. I never—"

"You're a bald-faced liar, Will Schuester." Shelby turned on him. "Or have you forgotten our little moment on the sofa in the Carmel teacher's lounge? Or the fact that you spent better than half your marriage to Terri keeping that sweet boy waiting for you?"

"Toby's no innocent," Will spluttered.

"Like I don't know that? All I'm saying is that neither of you are perfect, and you can't sit here and tell me that  _nothing will ever happen with Darius_ , because neither of you can promise that."

"Neither of—wait." Will shook his head, trying to connect the dots of Shelby's thoughts. "No. Toby  _hates_  Darius.  _That's_ why they're having such trouble playing this."

Shelby sounded frustrated. "God, you are  _so clueless_." She pointed at the stage. "Does that look like  _hate_  to you? If it does, you and I might be looking at two different scenes. I specialize in gay show choir directors, remember? Please. They may hate each other, and they may both be hot for  _you_ , which I'll admit, you're pretty cute as far as the gay ones go. But hate is pretty damn close to love, or at least lust, when you think about it."

He squinted at the stage. "Toby and - no."

"To quote your fiance,  _oh yes, darlin'_."

Will watched the two of them work their choreography with bare inches between them, glaring at each other all the while. Clayton stopped them yet again with an irritated, "That's not a smile, honey, that's a rictus grimace."

"Jesus," Will whispered.

"And the light dawns," Shelby drawled, propping her feet up on the seat in front of her. "Seriously, it's like a sport. Schuester baiting."

"I - what should I do?" Will rubbed his chin in sudden consternation. "This isn't good for anybody. It's not good for the  _show._  They're going to self-destruct if they don't - unless they -"

She watched him with amused expectancy. "Yes?"

Will blinked, suddenly remembering, with crystal clarity, Puck and Finn tumbling over one another in the McKinley hallway. "They're either going to have to fight it out," he said, "or... "

"Or," Shelby advised. "We really can't have them all bruised up, can we?"

Will's face set in a determined line. "In that case, I'm going to take care of this."

When Clayton finally tired of trying to tell them what to do, he released Toby and Darius for a fifteen minute break. Will made sure he was waiting for them in the wings.

"You two," he snapped. "Come with me."

"Will?" Toby was startled, but he followed as Will took each of their elbows and led them into the dressing room. "What is this all about, darlin'?"

"Don't  _darlin'_ me, Toby," Will said, one hand flat against Toby's chest. "This is ridiculous. This is  _beyond_  ridiculous. I'm not sure if you think you're going to pull off this show using the kind of moves you were making out there, but  _I'm_ sure not going to be part of it. You have to...  _fix this."_

"Fix what?" Darius glanced back and forth between Will and Toby, and Will wasn't sure if he was clueless or stupid or just pretending really well.

"Whatever the hell is going on between the two of you. Everyone knows it, but nobody seems to want to rock any boats." Will turned his gaze on Toby. "But you're my boat, and I'm not afraid of rocking you. So. Here's the deal. You need to do  _something_  with this goddamned tension. Fight or fuck - you two decide. But you need to figure it - "

"There's no way I'm doing  _anything_  with  _him,"_  Darius interrupted in fury, stabbing a finger at Toby.

"No, no." Toby said. His voice was calm, but his face was red. "He wants  _you_ , Will. He told me so this morning. Why would I—"

Will rolled his eyes. "Christ, Toby. This isn't  _middle school_. You're just being petty and jealous. Meanwhile, I'm not going to listen to  _either_  of you deny that there isn't some kind of tension here."

Toby surged forward, pressing himself into Will's space. "I'm not one of your fucking students,  _William."_

Will pressed right back. "Then stop fucking  _acting_  like it,  _Tobias,"_ he hissed. He ran a hand through his hair. "This is supposed to be my summer vacation, and the two of you are making it feel like damn high school all over again." He threw his arms into the air in frustration. "I'm done. You guys can do whatever you want. I don't care."

He turned and stormed into the hall, making it look good. Then he paused, lingering in the little alcove near the green room for a minute to see whether Toby would follow. When he didn't, Will sighed in relief. The dressing room door stayed closed, though Will could hear the rise and fall of angry voices.

 _At least they're talking_ , he thought. That was better than nothing.

* * *

"What the actual holy  _hell_?" Toby stared at the dressing room door, torn between following after Will and staying to have this fight out to the end with Darius. Because there was  _no way_  he was actually going to  _fuck_  Darius. No way.

"I think your fiance just laid down his own gauntlet, baby." Darius leaned against the piano, a slow smile snaking across his features. "And we have a decision to make."

"Don't you dare call me baby," Toby snarled. He couldn't decide who to be more mad at, Darius or Will, or himself.

"It suits you," Darius said smugly. "And you're  _hot_  when you get angry."

"God damn." Toby ran a hand through his hair, incredulous. "You think we're going to fuck, don't you?"

" _Baby_ ," Darius drawled, "I'd rather that than fight. It's a hell of a lot more fun."

Toby stood rooted to the floor as Darius pushed himself off the piano and into Toby's space.

"It wasn't my daddy who taught me to fight," Darius purred. "It was my auntie Irene. She's hard-assed, and she taught  _me_  how to come out swinging, too."

Darius wound an arm around Toby's waist and slid his hand into the middle of Toby's back, pushing him forward and pressing their bodies together. Toby tried to squirm away, but Darius was strong, and he just held Toby tight and kissed him, forceful and wet, for far too short a time before pulling away and stalking out of the practice room.

Toby's legs were jelly and his mind was reeling. It was clear that  _fixing things_  the way Will wanted was going to be a very complicated process.

* * *

Kurt moved to his spot on stage, working on his blocking for the Life Support scene while Will and the actress playing Mimi went through "Light My Candle." He was sitting in his chair, struggling to avoid hearing Puck bantering with Blaine in the audience, and the way Blaine's cheeks flushed when Puck was being flirty.

" _You're_  the one who has the best ass below 14th Street," he heard Puck say, and rolled his eyes when Blaine laughed.

Toby dropped into the chair next to him.

"You okay?" Toby followed his eyes to Puck in the front row. Blaine was beside him, scowling at his score.

"Fine," snapped Kurt. Then he leaned back, draping his script over his face. "No. I'm not. I'm feeling completely stupid and useless here. Why did they even  _cast_  me?" He dragged the script down so he was peering at Toby over the edge. "I can't do this, Toby."

"Yes, you can, sugar. You and I both know you've got the voice to pull it off. What you need is the confidence." He reached over and tapped the center of Kurt's chest. "I reckon those boys of yours have you all twisted up, don't they?"

"It's ridiculous for me to complain," he moaned quietly. "I know. But... seriously. Noah gets Blaine all worked up, and he's not getting what he needs to calm down." He swatted his own knee with his folded script, crossing his legs. "Dammit."

Toby leaned back in his chair, tipping it up on its back legs, exactly the way all Kurt's teachers had told him  _not_  to  _so you don't fall backwards and crack your head open_. "Darlin', you need to just  _talk_  to him." He shook his head, momentarily confused. "Both hims. Puck won't know he's making you uncomfortable if you don't tell him, and I think we've established that your new friend there is about as clueless in matters of the heart as my Will is." Toby rolled his eyes, and Kurt wondered how it was possible for Toby to have such good advice when he acted like he was younger than Kurt sometimes.

Kurt rose and strode downstage, peering out into the audience. "Sweetheart?" he called. "Can you take Beth backstage? She's making it hard for me to concentrate."

"Sure," Puck said, looking startled, and then guilty. "Sorry. We'll be outside for a little while, I think. Get a little Vitamin D... right, babygirl?" His voice went all gooshy the way it always did when he talked to Beth. Kurt watched them edge up the aisle and head toward the back of the auditorium. Blaine was watching him go, too, humming under his breath.

"That wasn't exactly what you told me," Toby said. "Is it Puck that's getting to you? Or Blaine?"

"I don't know." Kurt stood and walked in circles, close to Toby, who was watching Will crawling around on the other side of the stage, looking for imaginary smack on the floor. "I can't always count on Noah to know what's going on for him until he tells me. Sometimes  _he_  doesn't even know. The two of them together... it's making my head spin. I can't predict what they're going to do next."

Toby tipped his chair forward with a thunk, and planted his elbows on his knees. "Oh, sugar. It's not your job to predict what they're going to do or not going to do. Your job is to take care of yourself."

"And Noah," Kurt mumbled under his breath so that only Toby could hear.

"Yes, but that's only  _part_  of this. Because you can't take care of him if you don't take care of yourself. Trust me on that, darlin'."

Kurt had heard enough of Toby and Will's story that he knew Toby wasn't just saying things to make him feel better. Toby  _knew_  what it was like to be in love and feel confused and like everything was messy and complicated.

"It's more than that," Kurt said, shaking his head towards where Blaine was sitting. "Blaine's not letting anyone but Finn take care of him. And they don't really have a good place to do that anymore now that Blaine's home from school and — and Finn and Carl broke up." He looked hard at Toby. "Do you know what I mean by  _taking care of_  him?"

"I think so," Toby said slowly. "It's that BDSM. Ropes and whips and handcuffs, that sort of thing?"

"I mean the part that involves discipline. Physical discipline." Kurt swallowed, still feeling a little strange talking to Toby about this. "Finn gives it to all three of us. I give it to Noah."

"All right," Toby nodded. He looked a little uncomfortable, but he wasn't shutting down or laughing, and that was something.

"Well, without it, he's sort of… unfocused, and making poor decisions without consequences." Kurt shifted in his chair and tried to think out the best way to explain. "And I'm being a complete drama queen, because I- I-  _crap_."

Toby's hand was firm on his shoulder. "What, darlin'?"

He turned to face Toby, and silently willed Toby to  _understand_. "I want to give it to him," he whispered. "I wish Blaine wanted that from  _me_."  _Please_ , he thought,  _please don't judge me because of this_. "It's really intense to be… intimate with him, but not to be able to give him that when he needs it."

Kurt felt Toby's eyes on him, penetrating but kind. "I've never done what you guys do," he began, "but I've known other fellas who did, in Denver. Can't you talk to Finn about you doing that for Blaine?"

"Blaine won't accept it from anybody but Finn," he said. He leaned his face on the palms of his hands and groaned. "Maybe we could rent a hotel room…"

"Don't do that," Toby said, sighing. "If the lack of it's causing you grief, sugar, then I can definitely give them space for it."

"Oh, God. Really? Um." Kurt let out a shaky breath. "You wouldn't mind if they did that at your house?"

Toby nodded. "Have you somehow forgotten how many rooms my house has? The bunch of you, you're already using my house for  _everything else._  Why not that too?"

He grinned, and Kurt couldn't help but grin back. He jumped up from his chair and threw his arms around Toby.

"Thank you so much," he said. "I'll tell Finn, and he'll let you know when they need that.  _Thank_  you."

"Don't mention it, darlin'," Toby said, waving his hand. "Now, let's get back to your blocking."

* * *

One thing about old houses, Toby realized, that made it hard to be private about the things people did, was the wide-open air vents. Even from the third floor, when Toby was downstairs, he could hear the ghost of sound drifting into the kitchen. And most of that sound was loud, and enthusiastic — and  _continuous._  He was pretty sure he hadn't been that insatiable at their age. Even Annie got restless when she heard the moans and rhythmic thumps. Toby occupied himself making strawberry ice cream with berries they'd harvested earlier that summer from the garden Brittany had helped him plan.

When the boys finally came downstairs, faces flushed and clothes rumpled, Toby made some dinner for them all, but it was incredibly distracting to watch the way they were looking at one another and touching under the table.

"Why don't you go to Shelby's for the night, since she needs you early tomorrow," Toby finally prodded after dinner. Puck's happy demeanor brightened even more at the prospect of seeing Beth.

Kurt nodded at Toby, seeming to understand. He stayed behind as Puck and Blaine went out to the car and hugged Toby hard.

"I'm sorry for all the drama."

"You're teenagers. It happens." Toby wasn't sure what else to say. It wasn't so much that he was annoyed, or frustrated. It wasn't that he wasn't used to teenagers, but there  _had_  been an awful lot of drama crammed into what he'd planned on being a quiet day, and he had a little bit of a headache building behind his eyes. So he just hugged Kurt back and ushered him out the door.

He closed his front door with a sigh as Kurt threw his Navigator into gear and pulled carefully down Toby's driveway. "C'mon, Annie," he said, getting her leash from the hook by the door. "Let's go for a jog."

It was getting dark by the time Toby flopped down in the hammock. He dialed Will, hoping to talk about his afternoon teaching, only Will's phone went right to voice mail.

Toby scrolled through his contacts, feeling oddly lonely even though he'd been craving the solitude. When he saw the name, he let his thumb hesitate only seconds before dialing.

" _Angel, indeed,"_  Darius said.  _"To what do I owe this… pleasure?"_

"I know we kind of hate each other, but I've had a crazy day and wondered if you'd like to come over for some wine and strawberry ice cream." Toby tried to pitch his voice so that he didn't sound like he was begging, but he doubted that it was working.

" _Where's your man?"_  Darius sounded truly curious.

"Lima. He's teaching summer school. He agreed to it before the show, so now he has to drive back and forth every day because of stupid remedial history class." God, sometimes Toby  _hated_  Will's sense of duty.

" _That what's got you down? Him being two hours away?"_

"No. Well. Not really. Just. Teenage drama." He sighed into the warm night air.

" _Ah, the children, huh? And their various forms of complicated?"_

"You have  _no_  idea, Darius. I swear." The laugh that came back to him was warm and rich, and Toby couldn't help but laugh as well. "Please. There's no way I'll be able to keep my girlish figure if I eat all this ice cream. The least you can do is come over and help me."

" _Fine,"_  he said.  _"I'll be down in about half an hour."_

It was 28 minutes by Toby's watch, and he was pouring wine and scooping the homemade ice cream in the kitchen when he heard the front screen door clack closed behind Darius.

"They're seventeen year old boys," Darius said, dropping a box of chocolate cream Oreos on the table. "How much trouble can they be?"

Toby opened the box and crumbled three cookies over the top of his ice cream. "You'd be surprised. And how did you know I loved these?"

"Please. You and I have spent more time together this summer than anyone in the cast. Even if we kind of hate each other, I'm not blind, man. Hell,  _everyone_  in the show knows you have a weakness for chocolate with your chocolate. And, well." Darius lowered his eyes to the table and his voice to a murmur. "These are my go-to shitty day dessert. So there you go."

"What was your shitty day about?"

Darius looked back up at him with sad eyes. "My son's birthday. Not only couldn't I get down there to see him, he's at Y Camp and I can't even call to wish him a happy birthday."

"I'm sorry," Toby said. He added an inch more wine to one glass before handing it to Darius. "I don't suppose drowning your sorrows in the better part of a bottle will help?"

Darius took a swallow before shaking his head. "I doubt it. But I didn't realize how lonely I was until you called. So thank you."

"No worries," Toby replied, waving his hand over the bowls of ice cream. "Help yourself. We can go outside, if you want. I can light a fire."

Darius smiled and balanced his bowl in one hand, the other curved gracefully around the stem of his wine glass. "I've always liked a campfire in the summer. I'm hardly ever in one place long enough to find a place to light one."

Toby felt Darius' eyes on him. He piled some small sticks and crumpled newspaper into the sand before reaching into the box for a match. The paper took right away, and Toby settled into a squat for the minute it took the sticks to catch before moving back to the chair he'd pulled over.

"You're good at that," Darius said. "Let me guess. Boy Scout."

Toby huffed out a laugh. "I was the queerest little boy in Goose Creek. Scouts didn't take too kindly to me." He shook his head. "Startin' a fire was one of the only useful things my daddy taught me."

"At least you had a daddy to teach you things. My momma raised me and my sisters on her own." Darius ran a hand roughly over his face. "I think that's why it's so hard for me, being away from Elijah. But there's nothing  _else_  there for me, you know?"

"Yeah." Toby thought for a minute, what to say and how much to tell Darius. "Sometimes, when you can't be everything for everybody, the easiest thing is just being your best self  _for_   _yourself_." He worked on a spoonful of ice cream, enjoying the mix of fruit and chocolate and the contrast of the cream with the crunch of cookie. "And my daddy, he didn't teach me much. But he gave me my freedom, so I guess I can't complain."

"Freedom?" Darius' eyes were inquisitive over the edge of his glass.

"I left home when I was fourteen. Goose Creek wasn't really welcoming to a kid like me."

"You ran away." It wasn't a question, and Darius' voice was gentle, kind, without being demanding.

"No. Well. It was either Lousiville or one of those  _schools_. You know, to  _fix_  kids like us?" Toby didn't react at Darius' low whistle, just kept talking. "My parents were gonna send me, so I talked my daddy out of bus fare and never looked back. I lived in a shelter for a while." Toby swallowed thickly.

"Sounds like that didn't go so well."

"Survived it," he ground out. "Got into a mentoring program, my GED, an apartment and all. And then a sweet scholarship to the school where Will and I went to camp every summer. The rest is all history." He stared into the fire.

He didn't like thinking about those years, the starkness of the shelter and the almost over-the-top way the other kids had acted. The fear of his first trick, and the way he'd had to duck into corners to vomit afterwards for almost the whole first year he did it. And over it all, the worry of picking up a man too violent or too drunk or high or a cop or  _positive_  a constant nag in his stomach.

"Doesn't sound too much like history. Sounds like it's still a part of you." Darius' hand was warm on Toby's forearm, and Toby didn't pull away.

"It'll always be a part of me, for better and for worse."

"Those kinds of things always are. Is that why the boys got you so bothered today?"

Toby had to laugh outright at that. "No. Not at all, actually. They're just. Well.  _Boys_ , you know?"

"Sounds like Blaine finally got his shit together?" Darius shifted in his chair, leaning closer to Toby.

"How did you-" Toby spluttered, grateful he hadn't been eating or drinking at that moment or he'd surely be choking.

"Like I said, I'm not blind. He's into Puck, and Kurt's into Blaine, and it's gonna be a right mess by the end of the run if  _I_  know teenage boys at all."

Toby chuckled. "I think the three of them would be very disappointed to know that they're so transparent. But I think things should start to settle down with that soon."

"Good. Because it's damn distracting." Darius rested his hand against Toby's on the arm of Toby's chair. "Nearly as distracting as you and Will."

"Um." Toby swigged the last of his wine. "Will and me together, or each of us alone?"

"Doesn't matter," Darius said vaguely. "Both of you. Either of you." His voice was low and intimate in the small dark space between them. "I'm not drunk, just so you know. And I don't really hate you."

"I don't really hate you either," Toby said, surprised at himself. The wine seemed to have loosened him up a little bit. "Thank you for coming over. You didn't have to do that."

"Thanks for inviting me.  _You_  didn't have to do  _that_."

Toby watched the firelight play over Darius' skin, shadow and light, and he was surprised by the warmth of feeling in his chest.

"I don't have a lot of friends here yet," he said finally, blinking away the haze of the fire. "Do you think… are we safe to call a truce?"

He tried not to startle when Darius wove his fingers between Toby's own.

"I'd like that," Darius said, squeezing gently and turning in his chair to face Toby. "But I'd also really like to kiss you now, and I don't want to cross a line."

Toby sighed, and leaned his head against the back of his chair. "Yeah. The line… it's in a different place than it used to be. Back when I lived in another city, and Will was married. We've negotiated and screwed up and — and neither of us would restrict the other if we wanted that. But I  _know_  what he said to us about fight or fuck, and I just…"

"You just what?" Darius rubbed small circles on Toby's palm with his thumb, and Toby shivered.

"I don't want to screw anything up. Not with Will, and not with you. But I-  _god_ ," he sighed. "I  _miss_  that freedom, you know? I feel like somewhere along the way I got old and settled, and I don't know when it happened because I'm not old  _or_  settled yet."

"Why does it have to mean anything?" Darius wasn't pushing, Toby knew that. He was just  _asking_ , in that ever-patient way of his. "Why can't it just be two friends, being friendly?"

Toby quirked an eyebrow. "Is  _that_  what the kids are calling it these days?"

"You're funny," Darius chuckled. "Look, Toby, whatever shit we've been playing at, I don't want to push you."

"You're not," Toby replied, standing and holding tight to Darius' hand, pulling him up out of his chair. "But I don't trust myself right now, so… I'm going to thank you for the cookies and the company, and I'm going to walk you to the door." He led Darius through the brightly lit house, out the front door and onto the porch. "And I'm going tell you that I'll see you at rehearsal in the morning."

He stood, barely an inch between them, feeling the warmth of Darius' body, and closed only the distance between their mouths. He kissed Darius softly, with none of the challenge or anger that had been between them the past few days. Darius didn't deepen the kiss at all, just took what Toby was offering in that moment and then broke away with a shy smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, bounding down the steps.

"Drive safe," Toby whispered, and Darius just waved at him. Toby waited until he'd pulled out onto the street before closing up the front of the house and heading out back to take care of the fire. But his heart was thumping, and he felt flushed and trembling with something that was more than physical.

 _Oh, Tobias,_  he thought, sinking down on into a squat beside the dying embers,  _what_ _ **are**_ _you doin'?_

* * *

Blaine looked up in surprise from his phone to see Darius setting a bag of burgers on the wobbly green room table.

"Your boy's not here to make you eat," he said. "I thought you could use some lunch."

"Yes, thank you." Blaine realized just how hungry he was when he smelled what was in the bag. Darius spilled fries out on a napkin and set a burger in front of him. "I'm surprised you're willing to eat this stuff?"

"Only when I'm doing a show with dance in it. I'm still young enough to justify the calories." He grinned and waved a fry at Blaine. "You're not eating enough."

"I'm not," he agreed. The fry tasted amazing. He ate three more.

"This'll make our late rehearsal a little easier to handle. You should tell your boy you're having some food." Darius nodded at the phone Blaine was holding. "You're talking to him?"

"Oh, uh… yeah?" He looked down at his conversation with Finn. "We're just talking about football. They're hiring a new coach for his team this year. He's the quarterback."

"Of course he is," Darius said. "He still wants to know you're eating." He looked pointedly at Blaine. "Go on. I'll wait."

Flushing, Blaine did as Darius suggested.  _Darius brought in some lunch and he's sharing it with me,_ he texted.

 _Thank you for telling me,_  said Finn. Blaine smiled.

"You were right," he told Darius. "He did want to know."

"I got some sense about how things are going with you and your tall friend. He's not around much, but I can tell he's especially important."

"Important, yes." Blaine unwrapped the burger and took a bite. He watched Darius watching him. "Do you — I mean, do you know what we're —" He shook his head. "I don't know how to say it."

"Well, I don't do the same things that Auntie Irene does, but I think I know what you're talking about. Your tall boy's calling the shots. And the others… seems like you and Puck have figured things out?"

"Yeah." He blushed, remembering the degree to which the  _figuring_  had made him not want to leave Kurt and Puck's bed that morning. "And Kurt. We're together, the three of us."

"But not the other one?"

"Finn. I… I don't really know what to do about that." He thought about the word  _sir_ , spoken on the Fourth of July. Finn's presence in Kurt's room had been confusing, but that word  _sir,_  that wasn't confusing at all. "I think… he told me he wants more, but that might not be the best idea."

"I haven't seen much of him, but he seems like a good guy. You're not attracted to him?"

Blaine squirmed a little. "That's not the issue."

"You don't seem to mind more than one at a time. That's not for everybody, but I'm in favor of it." Darius shrugged. "What  _is_  the issue?"

"I like what we have." Blaine laughed, shaking his head. "No. That's not nearly enough for what I'm feeling. Maybe it'd be closer to the truth to say I'm scared to death of losing it. Any of it. I was Finn's boy, first, but now…"

Darius waited for a few heartbeats before prompting, "Now?"

Blaine pressed his lips together, waiting. Darius leaned forward and touched his hand.

"I feel like I want to belong to all of them," he whispered. He could feel his heart in his throat, pulsing quick and light, like a hummingbird's wings. "I've never said that out loud before."

"Well, I'd say congratulations are in order for knowing what you want. That's definitely something."

"Yeah, but…" He shook his head in confusion. "How do you  _ask_  for something like that?"

"Mmm, all right." Darius considered this. "You know nothing's forever, right?"

"Maybe not, but I don't think I can go into it thinking that?"

"Well, you can't exactly go into it thinking it's going to be a bad idea or a good idea, either. If you're following your heart, you've got to follow all of it. Either you trust yourself or you don't."

Blaine chewed on his lip. "I don't know if I  _do_  trust myself."

"Is that how it is? Then you'd better ask your boy to tell you what to do. Don't be making half-decisions for yourself." Darius pushed his chair out, gathering up his burger wrappers and napkins.

"I don't know," Blaine said again. He put out a hand, and Darius paused. "How… how  _do_  I know?"

"How do you know what you want? Or how do you know how to choose, once you know?" He gestured at the hallway. "Most people pick something and try it out. When it doesn't work —"

"If," said Blaine. "If it doesn't work."

"When it doesn't work," Darius went on, smiling, "they try another one. But your boys, they're not doing it that way."

"No?"

"No. But you can imagine, someday, your boys  _are_ going to break up. With each other, with someone else… something. Something will happen, and their relationships will end, or change, because relationships do that. The difference here is, if you're still around,  _you_  can be part of the way they get through it and stay together." He was still smiling. "Why couldn't they do the same for you and your special guy?"

Blaine felt his breath sticking in his throat. "Why would they want to do that for me?"

"Because they love you," he said gently. "You love them, right?"

Now he felt like he might cry. "I — I don't know. Maybe?"

Darius reached out and put a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "Now that, at least, I can tell you about. You can't tell me you don't feel something powerful for each of those guys."

"Maybe." He squeezed the bridge of his nose, breathing shakily. "Maybe I do… love them."

Darius smiled. "The kind of relationship you got here, it don't come around so often. There's all kinds of love, but you've got to hang onto this kind. Cherish it. All right?"

Blaine smiled tentatively back. "You remind me of your aunt."

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment." Darius reached out and selected one more fry, munching it as he walked away.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dave. 
> 
> Warning for Dom/sub and discipline, and minor angst all around. 
> 
> -amy

 

Kurt looked at the last text he'd received from Dave six times in one morning before he decided he was going to need to do something about it.  _Sounds mysterious. Another guy, Kurt?_  He'd just replied  _Later._ That had been a total cop-out. He wasn't going to be able to avoid the topic forever.

Now was a good time to bring it up. He would be alone in the car for an hour and a half on his way to Cleveland. Puck and Blaine were already at Toby's, staying over with Beth. He'd heard her on the phone last night, making babbling noises that sounded more and more like a baby and less like a crying alien every day.  _Blaine's feeding her,_  Puck had said, like it was nothing, like Blaine did this kind of thing without any effort. Maybe it felt like nothing to him. Every time Kurt fed her, he felt like he was going to drop her or break her or mess something up in a big way.

He took a deep breath and typed,  _Do you have time to talk?_

Kurt finished packing his overnight bag and got the lunch Puck had made for him the day before from the fridge. By the time he climbed into the driver's seat of the Navigator, Dave's response was waiting for him.  _Do you mean talk talk? Voices and everything?_

_The old-fashioned kind of call. Except, okay, we can use Skype._

Dave called him a minute later. Kurt could hear a whirring noise in the background. " _You're going to have to excuse the noise. My team is finishing their model rockets."_

"I don't want to interrupt if you're busy," he said.

" _No, my part's done. I'm just waiting for them to finish so we can attempt launch."_

Kurt grinned at his sour tone. "I'm guessing you're not all that hopeful about the outcome?"

" _Not since we couldn't manage the last three attempts."_ Dave sighed _. "The last time I built a model rocket was in fourth grade. This is not exactly my strong point."_

"So what is your strong point?"

" _Space bowl. It's like Jeopardy, but about space. And I'm not too shabby at the simulator. Weak point is the awful food. Can I be bad at food? It's worse than the cafeteria at school."_

"I'm sorry," said Kurt sincerely. "I'm not going to talk about what Noah made me for lunch because I'll feel like I'm bragging."

" _Not begrudging you your awesome food. I remember Puck making macaroni and cheese in the oven one time. Blew my mom's mac away."_

Dave sounded cheerful and relaxed, bad food notwithstanding. Kurt considered not telling him anything out of respect for his good mood, but it was clear that wasn't going to be a permanent solution.  _The longer you wait,_  he thought grimly,  _the more likely he's going to think you were keeping things from him._

" _So,_ " Dave went on, with a little too much false cheer,  _"what's up?"_

Kurt looked at the bag next to him on the seat, with the second book of the  _His Dark Materials_  trilogy poking out the top. "I finished  _Northern Lights."_

" _Oh."_ Dave definitely sounded startled.  _"So what'd you think?"_

"I'm almost wishing I didn't have to run my scene today," said Kurt, smiling, "so I could read  _The_ _Subtle Knife._  The first one was wonderful. Although there was a little too much Christian imagery for me."

" _Yeah, it gets more heavy-handed, I'm not going to apologize for that. Pullman subverts it so well, I never cared. So did you like the panserbjørne?"_

"Iorek is the best bear character in any book, hands down. Except maybe Winnie-The-Pooh, but I'm not sure he counts. Thank you so much for sharing them with me."

Dave cleared his throat.  _"To be honest, I'm a little surprised you read it at all."_

"Hey, it's Noah who doesn't read. I've always been a bookworm. Even Finn picks one up now and then." He tried to clear his throat without making too much noise, and ended up taking a drink of water. "That wasn't why I was calling, though. I want to tell you about a… a boy I met."

" _Another one?"_  The joke fell a little flat as Kurt didn't respond right away.  _"You starting a harem or something?"_

"You're not the first person to suggest that. When Noah met the guy he's seeing in California, my dad told him he was going to run out of room at the dining room table. I think eventually he realized he was going to need to get a bigger table."

" _Your dad's as insane as you are. So what's he like? Is he really okay with you already dating three other guys?"_

"He's with all of us. Essentially. Things are a little different with Finn, but —"

" _Wait, wait…"_ Dave laughed. It was such a pleasant sound, but Kurt cringed anyway. He wasn't at all sure Dave would be so pleased once he discovered what was actually going on.  _"Are you kidding me? He's — all of you?"_

"It's a long story. I'm not sure you want to hear it."

" _Hell, yes, I want to hear it,"_  said Dave emphatically. Now it was Kurt's turn to laugh.

"Well… back in November, Noah and I went to Masque, a gay dance club in Dayton. He ended up dancing with a boy there, someone with whom he made… a connection. I wasn't very happy about it at the time, but I got over it. It was significant to him. He started having dreams about him, almost every night." Kurt sighed, changing lanes. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

" _You don't have to tell me the details of his sex dreams."_

"Yes, I think I won't do that. But they weren't sex dreams, most of them. Mostly they were… they told a complicated story. This boy, he stayed with him in his dreams for seven months. And then he ran into the boy again. It turns out he's been dreaming about Noah, too. Both of them, the same kinds of dreams."

" _Wow. That's kind of creepy."_ Dave didn't seem to be bothered, though. He sounded fascinated.  _"Hang on a sec."_  The whirring noise diminished, then cut out entirely.  _"I'm in the break room now. My team can fuck up trial number four all on their own. So they got together?"_

"It gets weirder. Finn met him, too, all on his own - back in January. At an open mic in Columbus. They've been… well, friends, since then. And then it got more serious."

" _Holy shit, Kurt."_ Dave sounded worried now. " _I know you guys have an agreement or something, but if Finn was… I dunno, that sounds like cheating to me."_

"No, no," Kurt said. "We knew about him, me and Noah. He was just using a different name. We even knew it was a fake name, and that someday he would introduce us. It was just that he was scared. He didn't want… somebody at home to find out about his relationship with Finn."

" _Somebody at home? He in college or something?"_

"A residential school. He's originally from Lima. And then… he turned up for the auditions for  _RENT._  That's where I met him, and where he saw Noah again."

" _Wow."_ Dave still sounded nothing but impressed. He whistled. " _You guys have a lot more stamina for this relationship stuff than I do. Or, like, anybody else I know."_

"Well," said Kurt, "I wanted you to know. Because you know him."

" _What do you…"_  Dave's voice trailed off. Kurt could hear him breathing. He sighed.

"It's Blaine, Dave."

" _Blaine's your boyfriend."_  The first time he said it, it wasn't a question at all. It was like he was trying out the words in his mouth, like he didn't know how to say them. Then he said it again, an incredulous whisper:  _"Blaine's your boyfriend?"_

He wanted to explain how Blaine was more his friend than anything, and how he wasn't even having sex with Finn, but those finer differentiations wouldn't mean the right things to Dave. He just said, "Yes, he is. He's really important to me. To all of us."

Kurt waited for Dave to get mad at him. It seemed like the kind of thing he would expect, after the way Dave had reacted to everything over the past year. But Dave just said, in a bewildered kind of way,  _"Okay, yeah, that's… that's great. I hope you're happy together. All of you."_

"We are happy, Dave. I didn't want you to be surprised by this later. I think he's going to be an important part of my life."

" _Yeah… okay, Kurt. I think I'd better get going."_

"All right," he said. Then Dave hung up, and there was silence. He took out his earbuds and tossed them on the seat beside him with a sigh.  _So much for honesty._

* * *

"Thanks for bringing me with you." Sarah put the heels of her boots up on the dash of the Impala.

"Feet down, squirt." Puck reached out and put them back on the floor. "Sure, yeah. It's easier for me to bring you to Dad's than it is for him to come out to Lima."

"Yeah, but I know you'd be bringing Blaine with you to Toby's if I wasn't coming with you." She squinted at him. "Or — wait a minute,  _are_  we staying at Toby's? Is Blaine already there?"

"He's with Finn tonight," said Puck. He drummed on the steering wheel, then checked on Beth for the tenth time. She was still asleep.

"You didn't actually answer my question."

"It's different for them." He rolled his eyes at Sarah's unrelenting, pointed stare. "Okay, so maybe sometimes Blaine spends time with me and then goes and sleeps with Finn. Or the other way around, when I'm lucky."

Sarah reached out and poked his shoulder. "Because you  _love_  him."

Puck flushed, grinning. "Maybe."

"You totally do. Don't even say that. I remember the look in your face when you fell in love with Kurt. This is the same thing — only this time you've already been having dreams about him for months."

He shrugged. "Yeah, that's pretty weird, but I'm not gonna question it. I mean, he just  _showed up._  Kurt adores him, and Finn —"

He closed his mouth, but Sarah smirked. "Yeah, I can see how Finn feels about him. Whatever. You can say it's different for them, but it's the same from where I'm looking."

"Yeah, maybe it's not so different." He couldn't wipe the grin off his face. "I mean, I thought I got lucky  _last_  year, with Finn and Kurt and Adam, and Kurt's family? And now I've got Beth, and here's Blaine, and I'm, like… how did I deserve  _this?"_

Sarah thought about this. "Maybe it's in return for all the sucky things that happened to you before that. Or maybe in preparation for all the sucky things that are coming."

"That's kind of an awful way to think about it."

"You're welcome," she said cheerfully. "And you  _still_  didn't answer my —"

"Toby's giving us the space, if we wanna stay. Did you bring her frog rattle?"

"It's in the bottom of her car seat." She was eyeing him again. "Why are you avoiding this question?"

"I answered it!"

"No, there's something else. Why wouldn't you want to stay at Toby's? Or maybe you think  _I_  don't want to stay there." Sarah crossed her arms. "You'd save a lot of time by just telling me everything."

"For fuck's sake." He glared at her, but it didn't help. "Okay, look… Finn's taking care of Blaine tonight, and I dunno what else Blaine's going to want to do after that? Because mostly, after he's been with Finn, he just wants to sleep."

She nodded. "And?"

He took a deep breath. "And… Kurt kind of hates it when Finn's doing stuff with Blaine, because he doesn't get to do what they do. So I want to be there to distract him. I think it would be better to take Kurt back home, if he'd go."

Sarah was frowning. "Why don't you just ask him what he wants to do?"

Puck eased into a spot in front of Lazeza and put on the parking brake. "Because Kurt won't say,  _no, I don't want to hear Finn doing that with Blaine._  He wants to be cool about it, even if he's not really."

"That's way too complicated," she announced. "Plus, aren't you supposed to be listening to what Kurt says? He's in charge of you too."

He glared at her, flushing. "That is totally not your business."

She flicked him on the shoulder, right where she'd poked him earlier. " _So_ irrelevant. And you should listen to me, because I'm right."

Sarah probably was. He didn't have a history of listening to her all that often, but listening to her now seemed a lot more reasonable, more  _possible,_  than it had in the past.

Beth was making enough crazy noises as they walked into Lazeza that their dad heard them before they got to his table. He grinned Sarah's grin, which made Puck feel sort of okay about letting him take Beth's car seat from his hand.

"Boy, she looks like Sarah did when she was a baby. You're a pretty, pretty baby." He kissed her, holding her up to see his trucker cap. "You know, I can babysit for you sometime, Noah. I'm not working right now, so you'd be giving your old man a purpose."

"Everybody needs one of those." He tried not to look too snide. "I'll think about it. Hey, did you hear about what Sarah's doing next year?"

Sarah was clearly outraged by his betrayal, but she just turned to their dad and said calmly, "It's about school."

"Yeah? You always were good at school, Sar." His dad appeared mildly interested. "What's happening?"

"I'm gonna skip seventh grade and go into eighth."

"You can do that? Huh. Sounds like a lot of work to me. Hey, Noah, you think she'd smile for her old grandpa?"

"She doesn't smile yet." Puck's fingers were itching to grab her back from him. Hearing him say  _grandpa_  made him want to curl his lip.

"That's not true," Sarah retorted. "You said Kurt made her smile." She turned back to her dad, smiling spitefully. "Kurt's Noah's  _boyfriend._  And he has a new boyfriend, too."

"Oh." His dad looked like he was at a loss for what to say, which was fine for Puck. They ordered their dinners and talked about the Impala until the food came.

It wasn't until the end of dinner that his dad cleared his throat and leaned across the table toward him with painful concern.

"Noah, I don't like this business about… your boyfriends. Seriously, all these  _guys."_  He dropped his voice. "You're putting yourself at risk."

"Blaine's never had a boyfriend before, dad." Puck wasn't going to deny that more guys did put Blaine at risk, not to mention all the other people he was fucking, but he wasn't about to help his dad's argument.

"Still." The expression on his dad's face was almost comical. It looked like he'd smelled somebody's fart.

"Yeah, well," Puck said, before he could stop himself, "I was a slut when I was only fucking girls, and that hasn't changed."

His dad didn't say anything to Puck for the rest of the meal. When Puck reached out to take Beth away, his dad didn't object, and when he hugged Sarah goodbye, the only thing he offered Puck was a stiff wave.

Puck was laughing when he got into the car, but Sarah wasn't. She just looked annoyed.

"You didn't have to tell him about school!" she said.

He gunned the engine. "Yeah, sorry for being proud of you."

"That wasn't why you did it and you know it."

She pouted all the way to Toby's house, and when they got there, she went right to the carriage house and got a lifejacket. Puck went inside to find Kurt and Blaine sitting on the couch, watching  _Into the Woods_  on Toby's television. Finn was at the dining room table doing homework.

They paused the DVD to kiss and fondle him, which immediately made him feel a little better. Kurt took Beth from his arms so he could put them around Blaine, which also helped.

"Where's Sarah?" Kurt asked.

"She took the boat out," said Puck. "It wasn't a good dinner. My dad was an asshole, so I had to be a bigger asshole. She told him about you."

Blaine looked sympathetic. From the point of view of the safety of his arms, it looked an awful lot like adoration. "I take it your dad doesn't think very highly of you having another boyfriend?"

"That would be about right." Puck shrugged. "It's not his fucking business anyway. He doesn't get to say what happens with me, not anymore."

He wandered over to Finn while Kurt and Blaine went back to their musical.

"Hey," he began.

Finn didn't look up from his book. "Go upstairs and take your shorts down."

Puck blinked. He glanced uneasily at Blaine and Kurt, but they apparently hadn't heard. "Uh…"

"Do it.  _Now._  Make it quick." Finn turned the page. "Tools are in a bag on the floor. If you're fast, you can pick."

"What about Beth?" he said.

"You're questioning me?" Finn said sharply.

Puck stumbled over his feet in his rush for the stairs, and made it up to the third floor in about twenty seconds. His pulse was racing, though not from the climb, and he was already half-hard by the time he dropped his shorts on the floor. He buried his face into the pillow and canted his ass into the air, clutching the steel-tipped flogger in one hand.

Finn came in about five minutes later, closing the door quietly behind him. He walked slowly to stand beside the bed, then placed his hand on Puck's back.

"Good boy," he murmured. Puck felt the flush spread outward to his ears.

"My dad," he said, but Finn stopped him with a hand over his mouth.

"This isn't about you being bad. This is about you getting what you need, and me giving it to you." He gave him a sharp swat with his hand, and Puck jumped. "And I have something to talk with you about when we're done."

That was enough to keep him on edge, but the steel-tipped flogger did its job, driving him quickly into a sobbing mess in the center of the bed. Finn gave him six extra after that.

"Because you've been so amazing with Blaine," he said, kissing his sticky, wet cheek.

"Thank you, sir," Puck whispered.

He rested on his side, letting the smarting surface of his backside stay elevated, open to the air, and waited.

Finn seated himself on the bed beside him, leaning on Puck's thigh. "I think Blaine is ready to answer to someone else. And I think it should be you."

It took Puck a minute to figure out what Finn was talking about. He slowly lifted himself up, watching Finn for cues, but Finn was just watching him back.

"Me?" he said. "What about Kurt? He's the one who — I mean, he really  _wants_  to do that."

"Yeah, I know. That's part of the reason why I think it should be you, first. It'd be a lot less pressure for Blaine."

It was weird that Finn was talking to him frankly, like an equal. Like he would talk to Kurt. It felt humbling to have Finn talking to him like that after what he'd just done to him. At the same time, it made him want to cry again, thinking about how much Finn cared for Blaine, and how lucky he was to have that himself.

He reached over and put an arm around Finn's waist, tugging himself over until his head was in Finn's lap. Finn looked down at him in surprise, but he was smiling.

"Hey," he said softly.

"I'm listening," said Puck, waving his fingers. "Keep talking."

"Well…?" Finn nodded at him. "What do you think? You want to?"

"I don't know if I'd be any good at it," he said, "but I'd give it a try. If Blaine wanted that."

"He's taken discipline from another guy at Dalton, so I know he can do it. I just think… he talked about discipline being sexual, when he thought about it with you — with the boy from the bar. I think he doesn't realize I know that." Finn shrugged. "He's going to want more than just a spanking from you."

He grinned against Finn's thigh. "I'm okay with that. I definitely want to give him more than just a spanking. But I think… I think I can give him that, too."

Finn nodded. He stroked Puck's back. "You want me there?"

"Yeah, I do." Finn asking him that made him want to cry again. He buried his face in Finn's lap — and realized just how hard Finn was.

"Puck," Finn said. He sounded a little urgent.

"Fuck, can I, please…?" Puck was already reaching into Finn's gym shorts, stroking as best as he could through the fabric. But Finn stilled his hand, and Puck looked up at him in confusion. "You don't want it?"

"I want it," he said tightly. "I want you on your knees underneath me. But I think we should wait."

 _Wait for what?_  Puck wanted to ask, but he closed his mouth and withdrew his hand, watching at close quarters the pulsing of Finn's cock through his shorts. It made his mouth water.

"Yes sir," he said.

That made Finn smile at him, the kind of smile that wasn't about getting off, but about being so proud. When Finn gave him that smile, it felt like the most incredible gift — and a terrifying one, because there was no way he deserved something like that.

"Put your shorts on and we'll bring Blaine upstairs," Finn said, helping Puck to his feet. "I'm not going to tell him any of this until he's feeling comfortable and relaxed. Are you ready?"

"Yes —" He paused, looking at Finn in uncertainty. "Do you want me to call you _sir_  in front of him?I wasn't sure if that would weird him out."

"You've done it before. But…"

Finn considered this while Puck pulled on his shorts. Yeah, he was turned on too, but if Finn could wait, so could he.

"I think if you're going to be in charge," Finn decided, "he should be your focus, not following my directions. You know? So I think you shouldn't."

"Yeah, okay." He knew he was clearly doubting Finn, and he felt like he should say something about that. "Look, I know you think I can do this. And it's not that I don't believe you. It's just…" He spread his hands, shrugging helplessly. "This isn't the kind of thing I'm any good at. Being reliable — it just doesn't happen."

"I think you're going to have to let me be the judge of that." Finn rested a hand on his shoulder. "Okay? This is for Blaine, and I know how you feel about him. I say you're gonna be fine."

That made his shoulders settle a little.  _For Blaine._ "Yeah," he said. "Okay."

They went downstairs to find Sarah and Toby in the kitchen, working on another batch of Toby's strawberry ice cream. Beth was sleeping in the crook of Toby's arm as Sarah turned the crank on the ice cream maker.

"Well." Toby looked at both of them, his eyes appraising. "I didn't expect to see the two of you again tonight."

"We've got a few things to take care of before bed," Finn said casually. "Can you keep Beth with you for another couple hours?"

"She takes a bottle at eleven," Puck added, trying not to feel anxious. "And she's been waking up between twelve and one. It's kind of a lot to ask for —"

But Toby just nodded. "Finn already asked, Puck. I did this once or twice for Duncan and Cory when they were babies. You can count on me to… take care of her."

Puck watched Sarah for a few minutes, uncertain if he should say something about staying overnight, but she didn't even look away from the ice cream.

"It's thickening," she called. Toby turned back to the counter.

"We'd better take care of this. Your other two are making out in front of the television." He waved them away. "See you in the morning."

It might have been the aroused state he was in, but Toby's words shook Puck a little.  _Our other two._  He looked over at Finn to see if he'd heard it the same way, but Finn's attention was elsewhere. They made their way back into the family room.

"Blaine?" Finn said softly. Blaine raised his head from where it was resting on Kurt's shoulder and looked up at him.

"Hey." He looked just as surprised to see them as Toby had been. He glanced at Puck. "Aren't you — is everything okay?"

"Kurt, we're going to do what we talked about," Finn said. "Can the rest of the movie wait until tomorrow?"

"We're just about done anyway." Kurt stretched, arching his back and cracking his neck. Blaine watched him in obvious appreciation. "I'll be in the blue room on the second floor."

The three of them climbed the staircase to the second floor. Finn turned to Blaine, who appeared calm and curious.

"Blaine, why don't you go brush your teeth and get ready for bed, and then come up to the third floor?" Finn always managed to say things like that without making them sound like he was being condescending. People just  _wanted_  to do what he said. Blaine nodded and hurried off to the bathroom. They watched him go.

"Do you use, uh…" Puck scratched his neck. "Tools on him?"

"Only once. He responded… well." Finn smiled to himself.

"Oh yeah?" He raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"It means he came all over the couch without being touched, just from me spanking him."

Puck suddenly found himself unable to swallow. "Oh," he croaked, and adjusted himself in his shorts. "I — yeah."

"I don't think it was the pain. I think it was the control. He really wants that from you."

"Dude, no." He looked at Finn in surprise. "He wants it from  _you."_

Finn's eyes were far away. "He's confused about what he wants."

They watched Blaine return from the bathroom. Finn offered him a hand, and Blaine took it with pleasure and surprise. It was the way he accepted everything from Finn.

"What's going on?" he asked. Puck took his hand on the other side, and he laughed, looking back and forth between them.

"Come upstairs," Finn said again. "We'll explain."

Finn led him into the third floor room and sat on one side of the king-sized bed. Watching the way Blaine just climbed right in next to him, like there was no question about trusting him, made Puck feel wobbly. Finn hugged him, then waited for Puck to sit down too.

"I'm guessing this isn't anything bad," said Blaine. "It's not Kurt's birthday, because that's already past. We celebrated mine already too. Finn, yours was in January." He looked expectantly at Puck. "When do you turn seventeen?"

"Uh — next week. That wasn't… It's not that. Blaine, Finn and I were talking, and, uh…" He shot an appeal at Finn.

"Jeff was disciplining you at Dalton," Finn said gently. Blaine immediately went red, looking at his lap. "I know you only did that a few times with him."

"It wasn't the same as it was with you."

"I know. But sometimes I couldn't be around, so that was important."

After a moment, Blaine nodded, his eyes still downcast. "It wasn't… I was okay with it. I trust Jeff."

"That's good. I think, though, sometimes, it doesn't have to be about discipline." He looked at Puck. "It can just be because it's hot."

"Totally hot," Puck agreed. "Like being tied up, or cuffed, or gagged. Or having somebody use toys on you, or just spanking you."

"Oh," said Blaine, nodding. His eyes were wide and glassy. "Yeah."

Puck moved in a little closer. "You think that would be hot?"

"Yeah," he said again. He looked at Finn a little defensively. "I mean, sometimes."

"Hey, I definitely think it's hot," Finn said, grinning at him. "I'm saying sometimes it's one, or the other. And then sometimes it's kind of… it starts one way and turns into the other? And I think it's just all about who does it for you."

"Who does it for me?" Blaine echoed. Puck didn't think it was meant to be a question, but Puck moved in closer still, nuzzling his neck, and Blaine took a short, sharp breath. "Oh…"

"I think I know who  _does it_  for you, babe," said Puck.

Blaine looked over at Finn again, a little panicked. Finn nodded, reaching for both hands and squeezing them firmly.

"Do you think you can let Puck do this for you? If I'm here with you? Because I think it would be… good."

Blaine's eyes didn't leave Finn, even as his body was responding to Puck's touches. "Okay?"

Finn smiled. "Was that an  _okay_  or a  _yes, sir?"_

"Oh!" he squeaked, as Puck bit down on the muscle of his neck. "That was — that was a  _yes, sir."_

Puck looked over at Finn, feeling a flush of heady pleasure. "How do you usually…?"

"That depends." He smoothed the quilt on the bed with one hand. "If Blaine doesn't object, I think over your knee would be best, for this. Blaine, shorts only. Puck, you should keep your clothes on."

It was a little surreal, and more than a little arousing, to watch Blaine responding to his direction.  _He wants this?_  he wondered as he stroked Blaine's skin.  _From me?_ With Blaine on his lap, Puck looked up at Finn, and tried to collect his thoughts.  _What does Kurt say? Oh, yeah._

"So what happened today, babe?" he said. He tried to make his voice gentle, like Finn's. Blaine shivered.

"I, uh… I don't know?"

"Take your time." He rested his hand on Blaine's bare ass. It twitched in response. Puck could feel him against his leg, already hard. It was definitely a turn-on, but he waited.

"I… I'm sorry, I don't know if anything really  _happened_  today that I think I need —"

"Blaine," Puck said. "I'm not looking for you to tell me what you did  _wrong._  You didn't do anything wrong. You're…" He paused, and took a deep breath. "You're really a — a good boy."

"Oh," he said, quivering. "Oh, god."

Puck moved his hand up to the center of Blaine's back and then down again, amazed. "You don't mind me saying that?"

" _No,"_  he groaned. "I — I can't believe you."

"Oh, babe." He felt his heart break a little. "You don't think you're a good boy?"

Just like that, Blaine began to cry. Puck was startled, and he began to reach for him, to comfort him, but Finn shook his head. He took Puck's hand and put it back on Blaine's behind.

"Give him what he needs," he said quietly. "You know how to do it. Tell him why."

"I'm not spanking you because you're a bad boy," Puck said, his voice a little shaky. He didn't look away from Finn. "I'm — I'm doing it because you're — you're so good. Because I want you to know. To  _feel it."_

He brought his hand down, not too hard, but it made a loud noise. He flinched a little. Blaine made a noise of wanting. Finn nodded. Puck did it again:  _smack._

"Harder than that," said Finn. "You won't hurt him. You  _want_  him to feel it. This is for him. Because you — because you love him."

Puck could tell Blaine was struggling a little, but with each swat, he relaxed a little more, slumping against Puck's lap and onto the bed. Puck murmured encouragement, while Finn stayed silent, watching. By the end, Blaine was a floppy pile of limbs and shuddering breath, squirming against Puck's leg.

Finn got down beside the bed, close to his tear-streaked face.

"That's my good boy," he said tenderly. He touched Blaine's sweaty forehead and smiled. "Do you feel him, caring for you? You deserve that."

"I can't," Blaine said, squeezing his eyes shut, "I can't — I can't believe it."

"Yes, you do. Just tell him."

Blaine collapsed into tears again. With one hand, he fumbled for Puck, wrapping it around his waist. At Finn's approving nod, Puck helped him sit up and hugged him.

"That was okay?" Puck asked as Blaine clung to him. Finn gave him a pointed look, and he amended, "Um — you did… you did so well."

"Thank you," Blaine said. He sat back and looked away, trying to compose himself.

This wasn't what Puck was going for. He shot Finn a silent appeal.

Finn said, sharply, "Blaine." Blaine snapped his eyes up to look at him. "Tell him. Right now."

"I can't," he whispered.

"Puck — he's retreating. Don't let him get away with this. Kiss him. Make him feel it."

He could do that. "Babe," he said, gathering him close and kissing him across his cheek, his forehead, his lips. Blaine responded with a desperate moan. "Was that too hard? I mean, Finn could have —"

"No, no," Blaine said quickly, "no, I — I wanted it, I wanted you. God. It's crazy how much I want it."

"It's not crazy," Puck told him. He kissed him again, that spot on Blaine's neck that always made him squirm. He was pretty sure if he spent enough time kissing or biting or licking that spot, Blaine would come. "I want you to have it. You know that, right? Want you to have everything." He returned to his lips, kissing him hard. They both moaned again.

"I can't believe you want  _me_  like that," Blaine said.

"Really?" Puck shook his head. "I told you how I feel. I mean, no pressure, but I still —"

"No," said Finn urgently. Puck stopped. "Puck. You _are_  pressuring him. That's the whole point. He needs it. Put the pressure on. Come on.  _Press."_

"Oh." He turned back to Blaine with dawning understanding. "Oh — yeah. Fuck, yeah."

With a shift of his leg, he slid Blaine off his lap and onto the bed. He climbed on top of him, using the weight of his body to hold him down. Blaine was staring up at him with hope and obvious relief. He laughed, trying to find the words to explain how he was feeling.

"You," he said. He kissed him again, making him feel it, and then he knelt back to look into his face. "Blaine, baby, I love you. This, what I'm doing, I  _want_  to, more than anything. This is me, loving you. There's nothing crazy about that."

"It  _is_  crazy," Blaine cried. "How could I — it's been less than a month, and how can I be saying — how can I feel these things for you? How do I know it's real?"

Puck shook his head. "I've felt these things, these crazy feelings for you for months.  _Months._ You're the guy I've been waiting for. I didn't even think I'd ever see you again. And now you're here. This is as fucking  _real_  as it gets."

"Do you need more help, Blaine?" Finn asked. He was still crouched beside the bed, and he reached out to touch Puck's shoulder, holding Blaine down. "Or do you think you can let go for him?"

Blaine stared at Finn, breathing hard. "I — I'm just scared. Scared it's going to go away. Scared I'm not important enough. You've all got each other."

"Yeah, well, if you haven't noticed, we've all got you, too." Puck gave into the persistent instinct to hold him and wrapped him tightly in his arms. "Isn't that what you've been singing about in this musical?  _There's only us, there's only this?_  This is what's real."

"This is what's real," Blaine echoed. He took a deep breath. "And I'm — I'm trying to let go of fear."

"That's good," murmured Finn. "You can say what you feel."

"I feel…" He turned his head into Puck's chest and let his breath out slowly. "Grateful. And so turned on, and — and I love you, too."

Finn stood slowly, taking a step back from the bed, then another, until he was beside the door. He smiled once more at Puck, giving him an encouraging nod, then slipped into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind him. Blaine barely noticed him leave.

Puck was thrumming all over with Blaine's words and the energy from the spanking, not to mention the way Blaine was rutting up against him. He stripped Blaine's shorts off, then his own, muttering, "Wanna feel you under me, you're so hot, my baby, fuck."

"More," Blaine begged. Puck didn't quite get what he meant until Blaine brought his knees up to his chest, revealing the reddened surface of his bottom.

"Fuck," he said again. He swallowed, positioning his hand carefully to avoid hitting anything too sensitive, and began spanking him again, sharp smacks from underneath. Each time his hand came up, he watched Blaine's cock jump. "Is that what you need, baby?"

Blaine watched him, his eyes nearly closed. "Please. I feel —"

"Yeah, I know just how it feels. Give me your hands." With his left hand, he captured Blaine's wrists and held him flat, stretched above his head. He realized what was missing from the picture. "You should be wearing your collar."

"Oh," Blaine whined in delicious frustration. "That would be — oh my god."

Watching him want it like that, he could hardly believe it. Puck smiled. "I think Finn would be on board with that. I know you're  _his,_  but —"

"Want to be yours, too," he said thickly. "Want to be  _all_  of yours. You and Kurt and Finn. Yours."

"Yeah?" He felt the astonishment pass over him again, a familiar wave of  _how do I deserve this,_  but he was beyond worrying about whether or not he could do it. If Blaine wanted it, he would have it. "You've got it. Our boy. That's just how we want you.  _Ours."_

Blaine dissolved into sobs again. This time, Puck crawled on top of him and let his wrists go. He had to feel him, the truth of him, in his arms.  _Ours._

"I couldn't ask," Blaine said, crying so hard he could barely speak. "I couldn't ask for that. But I want it so much — to be part of what you have."

"What  _we_  have," said Puck. He held him tighter. "You are part of it. It's what we all want. You belong with us."

Blaine shook his head, blinking away tears. Puck let him bring his hands up to wipe them away. "I'm not sure I believe that. I want to, but — it's so much."

"I know." He smiled into Blaine's tear-streaked face. "You're gonna have to let us convince you that you deserve it."

* * *

"Are you going to bed?" asked Finn softly. Kurt turned from the television to see him standing at the foot of the stairs.

"Are they…?" Kurt asked. He glanced up the stairs. Finn nodded. There was a burst of hilarity from the kitchen. Kurt couldn't help but smile. "Sounds like Sarah's gotten over whatever she was mad about."

Finn came over to the couch and let his tall frame settle beside him. "I was thinking I'd join you tonight," he said. "If you're okay with that."

He rested a hand on Finn's leg. "It would take a lot for me to turn you down, Finn."

Finn smiled, but his eyes were sad. "I'm not even asking for sex. I'm just saying, I'm thinking Blaine's gonna be busy for a while. I might not see him at all tonight."

"It's what you wanted for him, right?" Kurt asked.

"It's what he needed," he said. "I don't want him to feel guilty for getting turned on by being spanked. If he can get over it with Puck, I bet he could do it with you too."

Kurt knew his smile wasn't exactly a happy one, either. "I'm sure he  _could_. But it's not about that for me." It was easy to say the words to Finn, here on Toby's couch, just the two of them. "I want him to want it with me, the way it is with you. To want me in control."

"You don't think he wants that from you?"

Kurt shook his head. "I know he doesn't. And I feel like an idiot for wanting it in the first place. It wasn't enough that he wanted to be my friend. I had to make it sexual — and that  _still_  wasn't enough for me."

"Hey," said Finn. He took Kurt's hand. "Don't be angry at yourself for wanting things. Isn't that what you always tell me?"

"Maybe," Kurt admitted.

Finn looked back at the stairs. "He's getting what he needs. That's the most important thing. Maybe we're not the ones who can give him everything, but that doesn't mean we can't give him  _something._ "

"I know. He cares about me. I know he does." Kurt snuggled in against Finn's side. "He's just — amazing. The way he trusts, it's the most incredible thing to witness."

"I think we probably shouldn't spend the rest of the night talking about how great Blaine is."

Kurt looked up at him hopefully. "I think we're both pretty great. Maybe we can manage to distract one another from thinking about Blaine for a while."

"You're more than a distraction, baby," Finn whispered, making Kurt shiver. "C'mon, I changed my mind. Let me take you to bed."


	17. Chapter 17

_(Author's note: discipline, sex and Adam. This is exactly the dynamic I see between Kurt and Blaine: completely happy together, but alone, they don't have a lot of spark. Luckily, they're seldom alone. No Finn here; he's got his own chapter coming next. -amy)_

* * *

"Are you  _sure_  I shouldn't wear the tie?" Blaine called from the bedroom.

"I'm sure," Kurt called back. He ran the brush through his hair again, looking at it from all sides to make sure it looked exactly right before squinting his eyes shut and spraying it with a cloud of hairspray.

"But what if I'm underdressed? I know how it was at the last concert I went to. I really think I should wear the tie."

"Nobody else at Adam's concert will have a tie on, Blaine."

There was a pause. "What about the  _other_  tie?"

Kurt looked over at Puck beside him, shaving his head. "Are you going to help him with this?"

The surprised-guilty look on Puck's face told Kurt he hadn't even thought about that. "Uh — I guess I could?"

"I think you should. He's going to be stressed out all night otherwise."

He set the clippers down on the counter. "Would, uh… would you help me?"

"If you think Blaine would tolerate me being there?"

"I don't think that's the problem," said Puck. "It would be Finn  _not_  being there."

Kurt put both hands on Puck's shoulders, giving him a squeeze. "He responds to you, sweetheart. You can do this."

"Okay. Yeah." Puck took a deep breath. "Just — come with me?"

Kurt stayed by the doorway to the bathroom while Puck went over to the dressing table. Blaine was sitting in a half-dressed state, holding the two different bow ties up in front of his neck. Puck crouched down beside Blaine, resting a hand on his bare thigh.

"You know nobody gives a fuck what you'll be wearing," he said.

"No," said Blaine. "I know. It doesn't matter." He set the ties on the dressing table with a sigh, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm just… I'm freaking out and I don't know how to stop."

"I know how to  _make_  you stop," said Puck.

Blaine met his eyes in the mirror. He looked more hopeful than terrified. "You do? I mean, you would? Are you sure we have time?"

"We definitely have time."

Puck got to his feet, offering Blaine his hand. Blaine took it, rising from the dressing table, and followed him to the bed, but when he saw Kurt watching, he faltered.

"I'm sorry," he said, the tension in his voice rising toward panic. "Is this awful? We really don't have to.'

"Blaine, it's all right," said Kurt. "Do you want me to go upstairs?"

"No," he said immediately. "Please don't. I mean, this is  _your_  bedroom."

Kurt hesitated only a moment before going to the drawer beside the bed and drawing out Adam's wooden paddle. Blaine's eyes got big and he made a little noise when he saw it.

"Would you like this, honey?" said Kurt.

Blaine hesitated, then nodded.

Now Puck was the one to look nervous. This was all new for him, too, after all. Kurt nodded. "I was thinking I might be able to help with that part. Noah, would you help him get in position?"

"We  _really_ don't have time for this," Blaine protested.

"On your knees," Puck said. His voice was low and soft. Blaine sank back onto the bed, then shifted to all fours. "You want me in front of him, Kurt?"

"That would work. Let him focus on you." Kurt rested a hand on Blaine's back, feeling him jerk forward, then relax into Kurt's touch. Kurt tried to keep his own focus, but it wasn't easy, not with Blaine's perfectly round behind under his hand.

Puck crawled up to sit against the wall, facing Blaine. He gave him an encouraging smile. "You look so good like this, baby. Be a good boy for Kurt."

Blaine didn't seem to mind this idea at all. He just nodded, and took a deep breath. "Can I — is it okay if I kiss you?"

"Fuck, yeah." Puck kissed him hard, pulling his head closer, and Blaine shuddered and went loose in his arms. Kurt took the opportunity to level the paddle on his backside and give him a solid swat. Blaine cried out into Puck's mouth, and Puck responded with an echoing groan.

"Good boy," Kurt whispered. He kept the impact light, but focused, which he knew from experience would keep Blaine's attention on the sensation without it becoming painful.

Puck slid a hand down inside Blaine's briefs, giving him something to thrust against. It wasn't long before Blaine was crying out with every stroke.

"He's so hard," Puck said. He made eye contact with Kurt over Blaine's shoulder.

"Don't let him come yet," Kurt told him. "He needs to let go first."

"You heard Kurt," he said. "You gonna be our good boy? Give us what we want?"

"I will," Blaine begged. "Please."

"Tell Kurt what you told me. At Toby's."

"Oh —" Blaine buried his face into Puck's neck. Puck kissed his cheek, grinning at Kurt.

"Go on. He's gonna like it."

Blaine's voice came out muffled and hesitant. "I want — I want to be yours. All of yours."

Kurt's hand faltered on the paddle as he felt his heart skip. "All…?"

"Your boy — please, Kurt."

The  _please_  drove Kurt back into action, the paddle coming down in a rapid burst of swats, but his heart was thundering in his chest.  _My boy,_  it said.  _Blaine wants to belong to me, too._ Blaine's cries escalated rapidly until  _please_  was all he was saying.

"Baby, yes," said Puck. He cupped Blaine's head protectively to his chest. "Yes, we totally want that. We all do. Right, Kurt?"

"Blaine," said Kurt, trying to keep his voice steady. "Do you trust us?"

"Yes," he sobbed, "yes, I trust you."

"Then you have to listen to me now. You have to let go. Not because of the answer we give, or don't give, but because you know we're going to take good care of you."

"Can't." The desperate way he clung to Puck was familiar, too — as though he truly believed he would perish if he let go.

"You will," said Kurt. "It might take a while, but you  _will_  give up what you're holding on to." He looked at Puck in appeal, but Puck seemed oblivious to what he was seeing. He set the paddle down. "Blaine, who do you belong to now?"

"Finn." That answer, at least, came readily enough.

"Yes. That means you need to  _talk to him_  about this. Even if you're not asking him for permission, you at least need to show him that sign of respect." He sat down on the side of the bed, putting a little pressure on Blaine's back until he folded into Puck's lap with a sigh. "And for that matter, we all belong to him, too."

"Not  _you."_  Blaine turned wet eyes on Kurt, watching him from under his loose curls.

"Yes, me, too. You know I do. It's not the same, maybe, but I depend on him to see things clearly." He stroked Blaine's leg, avoiding the bright red patches on his back and thighs. Blaine didn't seem to even notice them. "Can I lie down with the two of you?"

"Yeah," said Puck. He shifted to one side, making room for Kurt alongside Blaine's other side, watching Kurt's face carefully. "Do you need — I mean, do you want —?"

Kurt was pretty sure he knew what he was going to ask, and he shook his head. "I don't think it's like… how I feel after I do that for you, Noah."

"Like what?" asked Blaine.

Kurt smiled, feeling a little embarrassed, even in this intimate moment. Puck answered for him. "He has to climb on top of me and fuck me hard."

"Oh! Uh…" He glanced up at Kurt, looking startled. "I — remember that. You did that when you… yes. I guess I'm still surprised you're like that, in bed."

"Don't worry, Blaine." Kurt leaned down and kissed him gently. "I'm so glad to hear you want  _this_  from me. I'm feeling really, really happy about that."

"I suppose I shouldn't have been scared to ask. You've never said no to me before, about anything." Blaine sighed. "I'm sorry I couldn't — let go. The way you wanted me to."

"I haven't given up on that yet, Blaine. I just think we need to approach it a different way. Noah's not Finn, and neither am I. In the meantime… we still have a little while before we need to get on the road to Cleveland." Kurt looked over at Puck, then pointedly down at the bulge in his jeans. "I bet Noah has some ideas about how he wants to deal with  _this_."

Puck gave him a wicked grin. "Yeah." With the force of one knee, he flipped Blaine over onto his back, making him gasp. "Your ass too sore, baby?"

"No — no, I'm — oh, god." Blaine looked overwhelmed, but not in pain. Kurt turned Blaine's face toward him and kissed him tenderly and thoroughly while Puck shimmied out of his jeans. "Do you still — are you asking me not to — because I don't think I can  _stop_  myself — "

"No, you can," said Kurt. "You can come any time. Whenever you're ready."

"I'm so ready." His eyes fluttered closed.

Kurt handed the bottle of lube to Puck. When Puck slid one slick finger inside him, Blaine made so much noise that Kurt had to put a hand over his mouth. He squirmed and thrust against Puck's hand, begging  _more_  and  _please_  just as he had when Kurt was spanking him. It was impossible to be there beside him and not be affected. Half a dozen ideas fluttered through Kurt's mind about how Blaine or Puck might deal with his arousal, but in the end, he just wedged his free hand into his pants and stroked himself rapidly.

Puck took one look at what Kurt was doing and groaned, sliding into Blaine. Blaine's eyes stayed closed, and he threw his head back, reaching above his head for something to grasp. His hands met the metal links of chain looped around Kurt's headboard, and he twisted them firmly around each fist.

"I know just how you like it," said Puck. He was giving him short, shallow thrusts, kneeling over him with Blaine's legs thrust up against his chest. Kurt could see glimpses of Blaine's cock between the two of them, stiff and throbbing, leaking all over his chest with each hard jab. "You want me to make you come like this? No hands?"

Blaine nodded emphatically, his mouth still muffled by Kurt's hand. Puck was watching Kurt's face.

"You want Kurt to come first?"

There was another emphatic nod, accompanied by a desperate moan. Kurt managed to unzip his pants and tug himself out before he came inside his briefs, but only barely. His hand slid away from Blaine's lips, unloosing a torrent of  _ohmygod_ s and  _yes_ es, and Kurt watched in dazed delight as Blaine did exactly as Puck had suggested, pulsing rhythmically onto his own stomach without one touch. Puck thrust twice more inside him and held himself there, grinding inside Blaine as he came.

"Such a good boy," Kurt said. Blaine opened his eyes, bright and sparkling with tears, and smiled at Kurt.

"You're so good to me, Kurt," he said, his voice breaking. Kurt shook his head, smiling back.

"It's just what I want to do, honey." He ran an appreciative hand over Puck's back. "I couldn't help myself. The two of you together are just too hot."

"Zero complaints here," said Puck. He kissed him, then Blaine, and finally knelt back on the bed. "I think it's time for another shower, though."

* * *

Just as he'd promised, Kurt called his father as soon as they made it to I-71. "I'm following all the traffic laws," he said. "The roads are clear and the weather is good. If I get tired, I'll let Noah take over."

" _I know you've driven plenty on your own, Kurt,"_ said his dad.  _"Thanks for humoring your old man. We'll be busy keeping Sarah occupied while you're all at the concert. Actually, we'll be working on planning Puck's birthday cake, but don't tell him that."_

Kurt kept his face carefully neutral. "I won't. Have you heard from Finn?"

" _He left early for Carl's. Is he gonna be okay? I didn't want to ask or anything, but… they're not getting back together, are they?"_

"He hasn't said anything to lead me to believe that. I think this is just a friendly outing." It wasn't exactly true, but Kurt wasn't going to presume what Finn would or wouldn't want his dad to know. "We'll call once I know more about what's happening afterward, but I would assume we won't be going anywhere other than the hotel."

" _The Ritz-Carlton. I swear, I'd never even stayed in a hotel when I was your age."_

"Dad, seriously, we're not going to play the When I Was A Boy game. If you talk to Finn, tell him to call me. We love you."

" _I love you too, Kurt. Have a good time at the concert, and tell Adam congratulations from all of us."_

Blaine was watching Kurt with admiration. "I love hearing the way you talk to your dad. It's clear you really trust him."

"He can be a little controlling sometimes, but…" Kurt paused as Puck snorted. " _Yes,_  Noah? That sounded like a comment."

"Controlling?  _Your_  dad?" Puck slung an arm over the back of the passenger seat to brush Blaine's shoulder. "You've got to be kidding. He lets you do anything you want."

"Not anything," Kurt objected.

"There's a difference between ignoring your kid and giving them freedom," said Blaine. "I can tell your dad's not ignoring you. He might not like everything you're doing, but he respects your right to do it. That's pretty huge."

"He likes you," said Kurt, making Blaine blush. "I think that helps a lot."

"Well, that's very nice of you to say, but I think in this case it's obvious that he also trusts  _Adam._  Which, I have to say, makes it a lot easier for  _me_  to trust the whole situation." He clenched his hands tight in his lap. "I guess it was a little like when I met Finn and Carl. I knew Irene trusted them, and I trusted her."

"You weren't bothered by the age difference."

"No," Blaine said slowly. "I think… maybe it didn't seem strange, but I didn't realize how old Finn was? I thought he was older. And they were so obviously in love."

Kurt nodded. "That was the only place they could show that in public."

"Yeah. It's like being closeted, only worse, isn't it?" Blaine looked over his shoulder at Puck. "Is that how it is with the two of you and Adam?"

"We haven't had any chances to be together _in_  public," Puck said, chuckling. "Which, seriously, is totally fine with me. I never minded being anybody's secret. But I never saw the point, either."

"I think it's only hard when I can't talk about him with the people I care about," said Kurt. "We have one another. He's the one who has to bear the brunt of keeping us a secret."

"I'm really glad he decided it was okay to tell me about him," Blaine said softly.

"Me, too. He's been okay with you since Noah told him about meeting you. So I'm not at all worried about how things will go tonight. If Finn would just reply to my text…"

"I can text him again, Kurt," said Puck.

It sounded like an offhand comment, but Kurt knew what it took for Puck to willingly do something involving reading or writing. He ran his fingers over Puck's hand, resting on the back of the seat. "It's okay. If he isn't responding, he has a good reason for it. We can talk about what happened when we get home from rehearsal tomorrow."

"I'm taking Beth back to Lima with me after I drop you guys off," said Puck. "I'll be with Duncan and Cory tomorrow again."

Blaine smiled over his shoulder at him. "They sound like really sweet kids. I'd like to meet them sometime."

"When the show's over, you'll have more time," said Puck. He squeezed Blaine's shoulder. "And yeah, you'll love them. I think about how someday, Beth will be old enough to play with them, and they can be friends. That's kind of awesome."

Even during rush hour, it was a smooth drive to the Allen Theater. Kurt passed a crinkled $5 bill to the parking attendant and found an empty spot. They walked with the rest of the buzzing crowd toward the front door. When Kurt produced their VIP tickets, they ushered the three of them to the front of the line and brought them in through a separate door to a room where a few dozen other fans were waiting.

"Adam's warming up," they heard at one point. "He'll be in here shortly to say hello."

Both Puck and Kurt pricked up their ears, glancing at one another, but they stayed seated.

"That's Angela," Kurt told Blaine in a low voice. "She used to… work for Carl."

"Oh, yes!" Blaine wasn't subtle, craning his neck to see her. She was dressed, not in uniform, but in a brown velvet dress that suited her very well. "I remember her in his office. Now she's Adam's?"

"Literally," Puck nodded. "He's her owner."

"Oh." Blaine looked again, and this time his eyes stayed on her longer. "I wonder how it is for her, being on tour with him."

"From what she told me in June, it's going very well," said Kurt.

"She spent the whole first month with me down at Tessera, with Adam." Puck smiled to himself. "I think she was more sad to leave Beth than anyone."

There was a big commotion in the corner by the door. Kurt held Blaine's hand, watching his nervous face more than he was watching for Adam.

"Don't worry," Kurt told him.

"He's just a guy," Puck said dismissively.

When Adam came in, they waited for the rest of the fans to mob him for autographs, and then for the Q102 reporter to do a brief video interview. Then Kurt stood, and the rest of them walked with him to where Adam was standing, dressed in his glittery stage makeup and a black t-shirt. Adam's eyes flashed when he saw them.

"Hey, guys," he said casually. "You looking forward to the show?"

"Definitely," said Blaine, smiling. "I'm — a big fan. I watched the whole season of Idol, mostly for you."

"That's really a big compliment." Adam reached out and shook Blaine's hand. "What's your name?"

"Blaine Anderson. This is, uh, Kurt Hummel, and Noah Puckerman."

"Puck," he drawled, giving Adam a wave. Adam grinned.

" _Puck,"_  he said. "That's original."

"Yeah, I think somebody once told me it was super cute to be named after a famous fairy."

Blaine smothered a laugh. Kurt linked his arm through Blaine's, smiling at Adam. "How's the tour going?"

"It's going really well, actually. I'm a lot less exhausted than I thought I would be. I'm lucky to have some really great people working for me. They make sure I eat and sleep and get some time to relax."

"That's really good to hear," said Kurt. "Should we give you time to get ready?"

Adam looked up and made eye contact with Angela. "Yeah, I think I'd better get into my first change of clothes. It gives me a lot of appreciation for Elton John and Freddy Mercury and other costume-heavy performers. The stage crew just does it while I stand there, and it takes about twenty seconds."

"We're rehearsing a performance of RENT right now," Blaine said with enthusiasm, "and that's exactly what happens when Angel does her big clothing change."

"Oh, RENT, hmm?" Adam nodded. "That's a great show. When's your opening night?"

"Adam," called Angela. Adam backed out of the conversation graciously, giving Blaine a wave and a smile, and disappeared with her down the hall. There was a collective sigh across the room.

"He talked to you, like,  _forever,"_  said one girl enviously.

"Because you're a guy," her friend added. "He doesn't have  _any_  guy fans."

Blaine stood up straighter. "He has a few."

They were given actual seats in the first three rows, right up close to the stage, although Kurt suspected no one would remain in them. It was almost more exciting to be there than it had been to see Adam backstage. They didn't see Finn or Carl, but it was a big auditorium, and Kurt was pretty sure they were there somewhere, behind them in the general admissions seats.

"That was amazing," gushed Blaine. "I can't believe he was so  _normal."_

"Like I said," said Puck. "He's just a guy."

He seemed less like  _just a guy_  when the music began and he appeared in the spotlight, dressed in a feathered purple cape and an enormous hat, singing Voodoo.

<http://youtu.be/9JHGIx5iKHE> 

Puck sang with him under his breath, mouthing each word, for the entire concert — though he teared up a little during Soaked and had to stop singing. Kurt didn't sing along, but he tried to memorize every bit of the performance.  _We'll make a concert video in Indiana,_  Adam had told Kurt the night before, _so don't worry about making your own._

During Fever, Adam gave Tommy his usual intense kiss with tongue, and the audience cheered so loudly they had to vamp through the next eight measures before returning to the song. Blaine gave Kurt a raised eyebrow.

"Are they together?" he asked into Kurt's ear.

"Performance," said Kurt. "They're friends."

He didn't get into details about how Tommy didn't trust them, had never liked either of them, and thought Adam was insane for getting involved with a couple of sixteen-year-olds. Kurt knew Tommy was probably right. It  _was_  insane. But it was also proving to be very real — and Kurt couldn't spare even one thought for how it might fall apart someday. This was what they had, right now, and it was nothing short of amazing.

As Angela had instructed them over the phone, they moved the car as quickly as they could after the show, missing half of the encore. Neither Blaine nor Puck seemed to mind. They left the Navigator with the valet at the hotel and carried their bags into the brass-and-velvet lobby.

"It's not as incredible as the Omni was in Los Angeles," Kurt told Blaine, "but this is a lot more my style."

They waited at the counter until the receptionist asked them, "May I help you?"

It wasn't unlike Kurt's last experience coming to see Adam, a month ago in Toledo. Only this time, when the receptionist heard him say the name  _Adam Lambert,_  she smiled. Kurt supposed she might just be hiding her feelings better than the last person, but he still appreciated not being frowned at.

"I'll have Angela come down to meet you," she said.

"You're not worried about hanging out here in the lobby?" Puck asked in an undertone. "There could be press and stuff."

He shook his head. "I think as long as we're together, we're not interesting to anyone. We look like a bunch of fans, not Adam's  _secret boyfriend._ " He gave Puck a kiss. "Little do they know."

Puck rolled his eyes. "I just think it's stupid for anybody to care what he does when he's not on stage."

"Tell that to Adam's one point eight million Twitter followers," said Blaine. "People  _notice._  I'm sure somebody in this room will be tweeting about this. But Kurt's right. We're pretty well camouflaged as three high school kids."

This time, when Angela appeared, she didn't bother to pretend she didn't know them. She gave both Puck and Kurt big hugs and smiled at Blaine.

"I don't know if you remember me," he began, but she shook her head.

"Of course I remember you. Where's Finn? I'm surprised he's not here too."

"Finn's doing all right," he said. "He came to the concert tonight, too, with Carl."

"Oh," she said, letting out a sigh. "That's really… I hope they're okay."

"I'm sure they are." Kurt wasn't actually sure, but he didn't want to make things more stressful for Blaine than they already were.

Angela took Kurt's arm. "Come on, I can't wait to show you to your room. I booked you the amazing penthouse suite. It has a great view of the water."

They took the elevator all the way up to the top floor, using Angela's key card to access it. She handed the card to Kurt once they were in the room, which was enormous. The view was just as magnificent as she'd said.

"He won't be coming up here," she said, "but when you want to see him, he's in room 812. Crystal will be on duty until one, and then they'll shut it down for the night. Blaine, you're welcome, too."

"I'm not going to take up any of their time with Adam," Blaine said. He sat on the edge of the bed, smiling at Puck with adoration. "I got to see the concert, and to meet him. That's enough."

Puck touched Kurt's shoulder. "You wanna go first?"

"I think you should," he said. "He might have some specific ideas about what he wants."

Blaine took the kiss Puck gave him gladly, but he was clearly worried as he watched Puck leave with Angela. He looked anxiously at Kurt.

"I can't help but feel like you should be going with him."

"No, honey." Kurt slid his arms around Blaine, holding him tight. "Adam will take what he needs from Noah."

"And what about what you need?" Blaine murmured.

"I'll get that when he's done."

Kurt hoped that was vague enough that he didn't need to explain further to Blaine what he meant. It didn't matter that Adam was just a couple floors downstairs, or that Kurt would have a chance to be in his arms in a few hours. He was here, in the penthouse suite with Blaine. At the moment, that almost trumped anything else, including a visit with Adam.

He reached for him, kissing him gently, letting Blaine relax as gradually as he needed. Kurt could feel the tension flowing out of him like water, leaving him loose and pliable. His own reaction was predictable, but he did not climb on top of Blaine or hold him down. He just took him in his arms and kept kissing him softly.

Kissing wasn't the only thing they'd done while alone, but it was near enough to it that neither of them leapt immediately to take clothing off. Kurt thought it was strange not to have Puck there to drive their attraction. It left everything a little flatter than Kurt knew what to do with. Blaine opened his eyes and smiled at him.

"You are so beautiful, you know that?" Kurt told him.

"I was just thinking that," Blaine said. He touched Kurt's face. "It's always been easy with you. I love that. It feels —"

"So simple," Kurt went on. Blaine nodded. "It really is. Don't get me wrong, Kurt, Puck is incredibly hot, and when we're together I want… all kinds of things. But with you, it doesn't have to be about that. There's no drama. It's just us."

Kurt nodded, smiling. "No drama. You're right." He pulled Blaine's head down to lie on his chest, and Blaine sighed happily.

"You're not disappointed?"

"About — what, exactly?" Kurt had to laugh. "You think you could tell me what it is I'm supposed to be missing?"

"Just… what I said, earlier. Before we came here." Blaine sighed again, his hand resting on Kurt's thigh. "About wanting to belong to you all. I'm not kidding about that."

"You don't have to want the same things with everybody, honey. That doesn't mean we care about each other any less." He unbuttoned enough of Blaine's shirt to be able to slide a hand inside and rest it against his fuzzy chest. "You wanted me there today, paddling you."

"I really did," Blaine agreed. "You're good at that. And… it was hot. I really like that it can be hot. That we can make it sexual, or not, and it doesn't have to be one or the other."

"With Noah, it's always hot," Kurt whispered, and Blaine laughed, squirming against his hip.

"Yeah. I think that's just the way he is. He makes everything hot. In the ingredients of this relationship, he must be red pepper."

Kurt shook his head, remembering. "He's the sugar. I'm the flour. Finn's the butter."

"Oh, really?" Blaine sounded delighted by this idea. "And what am I?"

Kurt wasn't sure how to answer that. "You're delicious," he said, kissing him. Blaine laughed again.

"I bet Puck would know. He's the chef. I'll ask him later." Blaine yawned, snuggling up to him. "This  _bed_ is delicious. Your room needs a bed like this."

"I am so getting a bed like this," Kurt agreed. "That is a non-negotiable. And Noah. And the guest room. We will be spending all of our initial decorating budget on king-sized mattresses."

"Maybe I could stay in the guest room sometimes?" he asked shyly. Kurt gathered him up, and he didn't even protest.

"You can stay in any of our rooms, honey. You know Carole said you're always welcome. We all feel that way."

Holding Blaine there, stroking his hair, with Adam taking care of Puck downstairs, Kurt felt everything might be right with the world.

 _Almost._  Blaine said it first.

"I hope Finn's doing okay."

"Me, too. This, seeing Carl again, it can't be easy for him."

"Do you think he's going to want to… to get back together with him?"

Kurt sighed. "I think he might want to, but I don't think he will, if that makes any sense. Finn has his own motivations, and I think he trusts himself to know when things aren't right. Nothing's really changed for him and Carl."

"They were so much in love," Blaine said wistfully. "I could see it. He never seemed unhappy to me. I don't understand how they could have fallen away from one another so quickly."

"Finn made a choice. I think it was more about who he wanted to be than it was about how things were between them. Not that that was ever an easy relationship to begin with."

"Sometimes…" Blaine moved in closer, holding onto Kurt. "Sometimes I can't believe this is happening. Okay, most days I have moments like that, but I mean… what makes  _me_  so important that I get to have all three of you in my life?" He sounded awed by the idea.

Kurt held him tighter. He needed to make him feel it, what Blaine meant to him, what he meant to  _all_  of them, but he wasn't sure there was any way that could happen without Finn's permission.

"We love you," he said. Blaine made a little sobbing noise, just once, but then he was quiet, resting in Kurt's arms.

They both fell asleep for a little while, Kurt wasn't exactly sure how long, but when he woke up, Blaine was still asleep and Puck was sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling at both of them.

"Fucking adorable," he murmured.

"Are you done?" Kurt asked. He laughed quietly. "I mean…"

"Yeah, I'm done."

He sounded ordinary enough. Kurt struggled to sit up without disturbing Blaine's sleep. "What happened? Don't you want to stay with him? We brought your collar."

Puck nodded at the door significantly. "I think you need to do your thing, Kurt. I'm not saying I don't want it. I'm saying he's the one who needs the mojo."

"I don't understand."

"Yeah, you do." He helped Kurt to his feet and kissed him until Kurt was gasping and had to pull away, feeling a little dazed.

"Blaine was right. You really do make everything hot."

That made Puck grin. "Damn straight." He climbed into the indentation on the bed left by Kurt's body, accepting Blaine's sleepy embrace while Kurt slowly put on his shoes.

"Do you remember how you told Mercedes about the ingredients of our relationship? That Finn is butter and I'm flour…"

"Sure. Together, you're the roux. Totally versatile, the basis of everything good." Puck kissed Blaine absently as they spoke. "And I'm the sugar. We make awesome things, the three of us."

"Blaine wondered what  _he_  was."

"Oh, that's easy. He's eggs." Puck shifted Blaine until he draped one leg over Puck's torso, still fast asleep. "Because he binds the rest of us together, and there's really nothing else like him in the universe. He makes us more than we were. You can do a hell of a lot more with eggs than you can without." His face sobered. "But if you leave them alone, eventually they get rotten."

"That's a sad thought."

"Nah." He patted Blaine on his behind, and Blaine wiggled in a little closer. "Sometimes they just need to be beaten."

Kurt spent a little too much time thinking through that metaphor as he took the elevator back down to the eighth floor.  _You can't make anything with eggs and flour, not by themselves. And what ingredient is Adam? And for that matter, what about Carl? He's the fifth person on our tattoo, and Finn's not even… cooking with him anymore._

Crystal was waiting in the hallway outside Adam's room. She nodded at him, tucking her hands in her jeans.

"You think you might plan to stick around tonight?" she said. "'Cause I'm motivated to lock up early."

Kurt paused before her. "You're telling me there's not going to be anybody on duty tonight?"

She gave him an appraising look. "Don't tell me you think he's in danger?"

"Jacob told me you never know when something might happen," he said steadily.

"Yeah, I suppose that's true." She knocked twice on the door with the back of her knuckle, smiling at him. "You're not who you appear to be, Kurt."

He tilted his nose up. "Nobody is. I'm only seventeen, and even I know that."

Adam's eyes lit up when he answered the door, but when he saw the expression on Kurt's face, it slid back into concern. "What is it?"

"I'll keep somebody on duty," Crystal said to Kurt. Adam looked back and forth between the two of them, the confusion building, but Crystal just gestured for them to go inside. "Lock up behind, Ad."

"Will do." He closed the door and threw the deadbolt, hanging the chain above that. Then he sighed and took Kurt in his arms, holding him tight enough to make Kurt cry. It wasn't the squeezing that was doing it.

"I love you," Kurt said.

"Yeah, honey. Me too. Both of you, so much." Kurt could feel Adam's sigh in his whole body. "And Beth. I wish he could have brought her with him, but I know there's no way she could have dealt with that concert. It'll have to wait for another time."

"Are you exhausted?"

"Concerts leave me jazzed for hours afterward. I know better than to give in to it, but I still won't be going to sleep for a little while yet. I had enough energy to work Noah over with the paddle, and you know how that can be."

"Did he tell you that he's doing that for Blaine now?"

"Yeah." Adam smiled. As he stood back, Kurt could see the makeup, still thick on his skin, glittery above his eyes. "I'm really proud of him. Blaine seems so sweet, Kurt. I'm happy, for all of you."

"Thank you." Kurt could tell it wasn't that simple, but Adam was too generous to tell him without a little prodding. But Kurt wasn't going to make him talk it out. Not tonight. He took Adam's hand and clasped it tight. "This might sound like a weird thing to ask for, but… would you let me help you take your makeup off?"

Adam gave him an uneasy chuckle. "That's…" He paused, shaking his head. "I don't even know what to say."

"It's just that I spend an inordinate amount of time on my skin, and it brings up all kinds of OCD concerns to think about you going to bed with  _that_  on your face. It would give me some peace of mind if you would let me take care of it."

Adam looked genuinely distraught. "I'm not sure you've ever seen me without  _any_  makeup on."

"Sure I have," Kurt said. "There's tons of pictures of you from high school online. You were adorable." He tugged him toward the bathroom. "Come on. I won't freak out, no matter how hideous you are."

"Not the point, Kurt." But Adam followed him willingly, letting Kurt settle him on the closed toilet lid. Kurt sorted through the bottles of product on his counter while Adam watched him with a bemused face. "You finding what you need?"

"Not exactly, but it'll do. I'm emailing you a list of what _you_  need as soon as I get home." He brushed aside Adam's wing of black hair and frowned at the red, raw skin around his jawline. "What have you been using to shave? A week-old plastic Schlick?"

"Whatever Angela put in my bag," Adam said. He sounded subdued. Kurt spread cream on Adam's face, then carefully wiped it off.

"I'll have to talk to her, then. Your skin is much too sensitive for the regimen you're using. You'll see incredible results as soon as you switch over to my plan. I promise you."

Adam sat there passively, without complaint, while Kurt tut-tutted over him. He watched Adam's breathing slow and his shoulders slowly drop with a prickling awareness. It wasn't just that Adam was letting Kurt do this. It was the way he was being affected by it.

"I'm going to do your eye makeup next," he said. "I don't have a lot of experience taking that off. This is going to feel oily, but I'll make sure it all comes off before we're done."

"It's okay, honey." Adam kept his eyes closed while Kurt applied the product to his whole eyelid, wiping from the corner to the outside. Each stroke made Adam relax more.

"I wish I could be here every night to do this," Kurt whispered.

He watched Adam's breath hitch, once, before he exhaled. "That would be amazing, but… Kurt, I really hadn't intended to spend our night together like this."

Kurt didn't stop in his ministrations. "Like what?"

"It's not exactly very romantic."

He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Adam's naked, freckled lips. "I hope you know I'm not just in this relationship for the glitter."

Adam didn't sound like he was going to cry, but he definitely didn't sound happy, either. "I'm not worried about keeping you entertained. I just want to make sure you get what you need."

Kurt regarded Adam, sitting there in his black t-shirt, his skin pink and blotchy. It was easy to forget that underneath it all, he was more a redhead than anything else. Kurt ran his fingertips along the margin of Adam's face, feeling pleased when Adam shivered.

"I think I need this more than I need to submit right now," Kurt said. "All right? So don't feel like this wasn't my own preference. You give me what I need." He kissed him again, more firmly this time, feeling Adam open up to him. "I really like doing this for you. I know you have Angela, but…"

"It's not the same," murmured Adam. "You're doing something amazing, trust me. I don't…" He took a deep breath. "I don't let anybody do this."

He dabbed at Adam's hairline. "Take off your makeup? I should hope not."

"Take care of me." Adam reached out and grasped Kurt's hand, pulling it away from his face. The way he was looking at Kurt, so uncommonly vulnerable, was doing things to his sense of balance. "Not Angela, not anybody. But I don't know how to say no to you."

Kurt paused. "You absolutely need to be able to say no to me."

"I mean," Adam said softly, "I don't want to. I don't want to say no."

The rush of adrenaline made him quiver. "You want me to tell you what you need? Or do you want me to just… take what I want?"

"Oh." Adam closed his eyes. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

Kurt leaned in close, his lips against Adam's neck, and breathed out, tasting the clean skin under his ear. When Adam made a choked noise, tipping his head back, Kurt smiled contentedly. "You're beautiful like this. I mean it. Don't be afraid. I always want you, and it really has nothing to do with what you look like."

When he took Adam's hand and led him back to the bed, it was with a sense of wonder. He couldn't quite believe Adam found him at all convincing like this, taking charge, but he didn't think Adam was faking his response, either. Kurt stripped Adam's shirt off, then his jeans, gently wiggling them over his hips and pressing him back down on the bed. Adam let him do everything. It gave him courage.

"So I think," he said, "you need a spanking."

Adam struggled to sit up. "Kurt—!"

He kept his voice calm and firm, the way Finn always did. "Just listen. You've had a really hard couple of weeks. Even if they've been good ones. You've been taking care of everybody — Angela, your band, Noah. It would be good if you could let go, just for a little while." He stroked Adam's tense stomach, over the fabric of his shorts, the thick bulge of his cock. "If you would allow me to do that for you… I would really like to."

Adam was breathing heavily, but his eyes were still calm. "You would."

"Yeah." Kurt climbed on top of him, fitting their bodies together as he kissed him. He knew Adam would feel how much he wanted him, but he said it anyway, because he knew how difficult it was to believe someone actually _wanted_  to take care of him that way. "I really, really would. If you would please turn over."

Kurt held his breath for the few seconds that Adam stared at him. He half expected him to say,  _you're crazy if you think I'll accept that from you,_  or laugh, or something else to break the tension. But Adam just got on his knees, bending over his folded forearms with his ass in the air. With a pounding heart, Kurt looped a finger through the waistband of his shorts and dragged them down his thighs. He rested his hand on Adam's unmarked skin.

"You've never done this before, have you?"

He saw Adam's hair shift as he shook his head.

"But you've done it for others. Many others. You know what it does to Noah."

"I know." He turned his head, looking back at Kurt through the curtain of his hair, his face troubled. "I don't… Kurt, I don't know if I can do it. Not the way you want."

"Trust me, I know just how you feel. So does Blaine and Finn and Noah and probably anyone who's ever wanted to submit to someone else." He stroked Adam's spine, up and down, feeling the ridges of his backbone, and returning to rest on the curve of his ass. There was no way it could  _not_  be sexual, touching Adam that way, but that wasn't the way he was intending it to feel. "This is not a contest or a performance."

"Everything is a contest or a performance," Adam mumbled. Kurt smiled.

"You might be good at everything, Adam, but I'm the one who's here, telling you you can just be whomever you are. And I'm going to love you, just that way."

Adam's voice dropped to almost nothing. "Even if I'm a whiny little boy?"

He didn't laugh. "Yeah. You'll be in good company. I'm the worst of all brats sometimes. And that doesn't stop me from wanting to be here, right where I am, doing this with you. Can you just trust me on that?"

Adam placed his head on his folded arms and sighed, his back descending as he exhaled. "Okay."

It felt like victory, even before he brought his hand down on Adam's bottom. Adam jumped with each impact, his body tensing, then relaxing, until he started to breathe into it and found his own rhythm. He could almost hear Finn's voice saying  _don't fight it; just give in._  Adam had said those words to Noah, many times. He'd probably said them an hour ago. Kurt knew saying it and  _doing_  it were two very different things.

"Fuck, that — ow!" Adam wasn't squirming away, but Kurt could see his fists clenching. He put a little extra force into the next swat, and Adam swore again.

"You're not whining yet."

Adam laughed with exasperation. "Are you trying to make me?"

"I recall a lesson with the paddle…" Kurt brought his hand down three times in quick succession in one spot. "Maybe I'm not going for a whiny boy. Maybe I want you to feel the hurt from your sore spots. I know from experience how working in the theater can bring up all kinds of things from your past." Another three, on the other cheek, and then back to where he started. Adam was making uncomfortable noises now. "What hurts, about being on tour?"

Adam winced. "The — the press. What they said about me."

"What did they say about you?" Kurt had been following reviews of the Glam Nation tour pretty carefully, but he wanted to hear what Adam had to say.

"How I'm — that I should lose some weight." The words came slowly, painfully. Kurt frowned.

"You've already lost too much. I'm not going to ask you how much. It doesn't matter."

"No," Adam agreed. "It doesn't."

The next few swats didn't move Adam at all. Then he buried his face in the mattress. Kurt could see his shoulders shaking. A wave of protectiveness came over him, and he reached around Adam's waist, pulling him against his body to spoon on their sides. Adam didn't make any noise, but he put his hand over Kurt's, bringing it up to his face to kiss it, and Kurt could feel the wetness on his cheeks.

"I feel like a loser of the first degree," Adam said eventually, "when glowing reviews about my talent and performance don't mean shit after I hear some random blogger say my thighs are too big."

"Sore spots," Kurt murmured. He kissed Adam's ear. "Do you know how proud I am of you?"

Adam shrugged. "The tour's going pretty well. Comments about my weight notwithstanding."

"Not for that. For doing this. For knowing yourself and — and for wanting to share it with me. Do you know how amazing that feels?" Kurt put his arms around Adam and held him tight. "You're miraculous."

"I'm very lucky you think so." He turned his head far enough to the side that he could just reach Kurt's lips. "And I know you didn't just do this with me just because you can't do it with Blaine."

Kurt smiled as he kissed him. "Yesterday I might have felt terrible about that comment, but not today. Today, Blaine asked me for that. Me, and Finn, and Noah. All of us."

Adam's smile looked genuine. "Yeah? I'm really glad for you."

"I wasn't sure if you would be," Kurt admitted.

"I'm always glad for you," Adam said. "Don't be worried about that. Even if it's someone who takes my place, I'd rather you be happy than not happy. I love you."

That, of all things, made Kurt tear up. "I love you too."

Adam turned over and wrapped him up. Kurt could feel the energy shifting as he let the tears go. They waited there, clutching one another, until they'd both stopped crying, and then Adam kissed him, and he kissed him back. They both let out groans of anticipation.

"Now," said Kurt.

"Now?"

He clasped Adam's well-warmed bare behind in both hands and ground their cocks together. "Now you can fuck me, please."


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carl/Finn. Warnings for D/s, plug training, sex between characters with an extreme age difference, and some Emma a-has. Maybe have some tissues ready. 
> 
> -amy

 

Finn wasn't sure if he should park far away from Carl's house, or if it didn't matter anymore where he parked. They still had things to hide, after all, but at least now he could truthfully say  _there's nothing going on between us that isn't professional._  In the end, though, he parked where he was used to parking, two blocks away and around the corner, and walked up to the kitchen entrance.

The car in the service drive wasn't familiar to him. For a moment he wondered if it might be Mark, and he felt a hot flash of rage at the idea. It didn't matter if Carl's relationship with Mark was professional or personal; he hated it just the same.

He rapped on the door, waited, then rang the doorbell. When Angela had been around to answer the door, he'd seldom needed the doorbell. Now she was with Adam.

But it wasn't Mark who answered the door. It was Ms. Pillsbury. Finn froze in the doorway as she looked him up and down.

"Um," he said, desperately looking around for an excuse.  _Yeah, I was in the neighborhood, doing… yard work. In my best brown suit jacket._

"Finn!" She opened the door wider, blinking up at him, clearly flustered. "You're early."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't think you — I'm sorry." He took a couple steps back. "You knew I was coming?"

"Carl told me about the concert in Cleveland." She fiddled with the green scarf around her neck. "Please, come inside."

"Are you sure?" He walked into the kitchen. The space was so familiar, but already he could see all of the little things that had been changed: the placement of the coffee machine, the basket of flowers by the window. "I can come back later if that would be better."

"Oh, no, no. Carl's right upstairs in the — he's right upstairs. I can get him for you." Ms. Pillsbury nodded nervously, then turned and disappeared down the hall.

He stood there, clasping his hands behind his back, afraid to touch anything. The kitchen smelled like coffee and chicken soup. There was no music playing. He was tempted to go to the pantry and switch on the sound system.  _Boundaries,_  he thought, and then laughed at himself, because really, it was just a kitchen.

When Carl entered the kitchen, he stopped in the doorway and stared at Finn — which, if he had to be honest, was exactly the response Finn had been hoping for when he'd chosen the jacket he was wearing. Carl himself was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, and that was so different from what he usually wore that Finn wasn't sure if he'd lost weight or gained weight or changed his hair or anything. It was just  _Carl,_  in his own kitchen, staring at him like that, and he wasn't sure what to do with that. Not anymore.

He gave Carl what was meant to be a friendly smile. "Hey."

"Finn," said Carl.

"Yeah, I'm, uh, sorry to be early? I apologized to Ms. P. But she said she was expecting me to be here tonight, so I guess it wasn't a secret or anything."

"Not a secret, no," said Carl. "No secrets from Emma."

"Emma," he repeated, and nodded weakly. "Okay. Yeah. Did — did she go home?"

"She's in the front room. I think she might want to talk with you." Carl gestured for him to precede him into the hallway. Finn walked by him, trying not to be aware of his body, so close.

Ms. Pillsbury —  _Emma_  — was sitting on the pink sofa, the one with only one arm and a soft velvety cushion that felt like it was filled with something like feathers. She folded her hands in her lap and nodded to him.

"Would you sit down for a moment, Finn? I think we need to — to clarify a few things."

He watched her glance over at Carl, standing at the foot of the stairs. He nodded, and she turned back to Finn.

"Okay?" He could only guess at what she was going to say. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I know you're going through some… things. And that you and Carl, that you and he used to have an… a different kind of relationship."

"Emma," Carl said, and Finn heard the caution in his voice. He watched Emma twisting her hands in her lap. Finally Carl sighed. "You might as well say something."

"I think honesty is very important," she said to Carl, sounding a little defensive. "And you've told me you trust him. And I know your mother has… a history. She understands what you've been doing?"

"Yeah." This was just totally weirding him out, being in a room with Carl and Carl's girlfriend, who was  _Ms. Pillsbury,_  and more information might be exactly the worst thing he could hear right now, but he couldn't help himself. "How do you know my mom's history?"

Emma smiled. "Because I've spent the last three months getting to know… someone who knows her."

"Who… oh!" He stared at her. "You know  _Irene?"_

She looked over at Carl, who nodded. The way he sighed when he did it made Finn think maybe Emma might get a stern talking to, at the very least, for divulging this fact.

"She talked about your mom a lot, and I didn't know it was her until — until later, and… well, I think your mother and I might want to have a conversation at some point. If that's okay with you."

"Okay with  _me?"_  he echoed. "Uh… yeah, that would be fine? I mean… I still don't get why you would…?"

Emma fidgeted, smoothing her hands over the fabric of her skirt and then toying with the ends of the gauzy blue scarf she had tied around her neck. "I don't have nearly so good a relationship with my own parents. When I tried to tell them about… well." She slipped a finger under the edge of the scarf, pulling it down just enough for Finn to see a glimpse of leather there.

Finn felt the bottom drop out of his heart. He didn't know why he was surprised. This was Carl, after all, and there wasn't any reason why he wouldn't be doing all those things he used to do with Finn with someone else. Finn struggled to allow the reason in his head to overtake the overwhelming jealousy that washed over him. Eventually he could speak again.

"You... you're Carl's."

"Yes. And they already think that my… problems… make me crazy. This is just one more reason for them to disapprove." Emma went back to twisting her fingers in her lap. "They won't talk to me about it. But I know I'm lucky to belong to Carl."

He tried not to scowl at her, or grimace or snarl or anything negative. He just nodded, and hoped she would understand that meant  _yes, you are, and you'd better not forget it._

When she reached across the space between them and held tight to Finn's hands, he nearly jumped back. "That's why I don't want you to feel like you can't… I mean, that you can't be here, just because I am. You're always welcome here, Finn, because I know now how important it is, what you have with Carl. It's important for both of you. Do you understand?"

It felt to Finn like she was trying to give him something.  _Permission, maybe,_  his brain told him.

"I understand," he said after a moment. Then he blinked and shook his head. "Sorry. No. I don't understand. Can you explain it to me again?"

Emma looked at Carl once more, and he nodded. She took a deep breath. "Finn... please... you're having a hard time, I can tell. I wouldn't want anything to stand in the way of you, getting what you need from Carl.  _Anything."_

Finn suddenly felt the twelve feet between himself and Carl had been filled in with electric current.  _She's saying I get to... that I can...?_  The possibility was so  _impossible_  that he shook his head and laughed. "Uh... I don't think I can -"

"Emma," Carl said, and Emma immediately rose, moving into a very familiar pose, her hands behind her back. Finn's words cut off, and he stared at her in astonishment.

"Whoa," he murmured.

"Thank you," Carl said. "You'll recall your instructions. I'll check on you in the morning and see how you're doing."

"Yes, sir," she replied. She didn't look at Finn again as she walked quietly out of the room. Carl walked over to the pink couch where Finn was sitting and paused there beside him. Eventually, when Finn didn't move, he sat in the space where Emma had been.

"Dude," Finn said, "I can't believe she just -"

"Excuse me?" Carl interrupted. He sounded like steel, and Finn paused, his heart racing.

"Sir," he whispered. "Uh, sorry." He hesitated. "Did she... uh, did she just say it was okay for you and me to…?"

"Emma doesn't make the rules for my professional relationships." Carl could have been carved from stone, his body was so still. "But she does have some say over my personal ones."

"So which one is this?"

Carl looked at Finn, and he had to shift in his seat to catch his balance. "I think that's up to you."

Finn closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. "I… sir, I made the choice not to… to do that anymore with you."

"I'll listen to that answer if you tell me you still feel that way."

He swallowed on a dry throat. "I— honestly, I don't know what's best, right now."

Carl shook his head. "No, Finn. You don't have to know. That's my decision. It's your decision what kind of relationship you  _want_  us to have. Only you know that. You have to figure out what you want. I'll decide what to do about it."

There was no way he was going to go along with that. Finn almost felt like yelling at him,  _I already made a decision about this, and why the hell are you asking me to do it again?_ But the way Carl was looking at him, he couldn't say anything at all. He just nodded.

"I think we won't make any decisions until after tonight," said Carl. "Tonight is just… what it is. Tonight we don't have to worry about any of that. And then tomorrow, we can talk about it. All right?"

He held out a hand for Finn to shake. Finn took it, holding on for as long as he reasonably could, and finally letting go. Carl stood up.

"I should go finish getting dressed."

"Why?" Finn blurted. Immediately he felt his cheeks go hot. "Um, I just meant. Yeah." He laughed. "I meant… well, pretty much what it sounded like I meant."

Carl glanced down at his shirt, then back at Finn in apparent surprise.

"Really?"

Finn laughed again, because he sounded like Carl thought — like Finn would  _ever_  think he was anything other than —

Quickly enough that Carl was thrown off balance, Finn stood up. He took Carl's hand again, and this time, he didn't let go.

"I think you're perfect the way you are," he said. He hoped Carl could see in his eyes exactly how much he meant it.

Carl's smile went incandescent. He dug into the pocket of his jeans for something which he put into Finn's hand. When Finn held it up, he realized it was the key to the Corvette.

"You drive there," he said, "and I'll drive home. Deal?"

* * *

The concert hall wasn't all that different from the one where the Indigo Girls had performed, other than the fact that the crowd was louder. He was glad for the earplugs Carl passed him before the opening act came on.

"Protecting your eardrums now will make it possible for us to have a conversation later," he told him.

Once they were wearing them, though, Finn could only hear a vague blur of conversation from the people around them. He ordered a lemonade at the bar using mostly hand gestures and hoped the amount of change was correct.

Carl's way of dealing with the earplugs was to pull Finn down and talk right into his ear every time he had something to say. Finn had the pleasure of feeling Carl's lips on his earlobe several times over the course of the night. Each time, he got a little more worked up, until by the last time, he couldn't help but let out a strangled gasp.

Carl paused in whatever he was going to say. He studied Finn carefully.

"Too much?" he asked, sounding apologetic.

"No," Finn said. He said it again, just to make sure Carl understood: "Not too much. Thank you."

It wasn't  _please_. It wasn't begging for more, because public, and music, and making decisions were all things that took precedence over Finn begging Carl for anything at the moment. But Carl took him at his word. Every time he had something to say after that, he lingered a little longer, allowing his breath to hover on Finn's skin. When Finn made whimpering or moaning noises, he just smiled a little more broadly.

At one point, Finn leaned over to ask a question of his own. The subject of his question melted away, however, as he felt Carl's own shivering response to his mouth pausing just behind Carl's jaw. Another question leapt to his lips.

"Do you… want to kiss me?"

Whatever warning sirens there were that were blaring  _bad idea, bad idea_  were silenced by the desire in Carl's eyes. Finn leaned over to claim Carl's mouth, but Carl put up a hand between them, forestalling him.

"We aren't making that decision tonight," he said.

"Maybe I am," said Finn, "and maybe I'll make a different decision tomorrow."

Carl shook his head, grinning. This time, instead of putting his lips beside Finn's ear, he let them land against his neck in the most sensitive spot, using his teeth. Finn whined, loud enough for the guys in front of them to hear him, but they just glanced behind them momentarily and smiled at the two of them.

"I suppose if we're going to make that choice anywhere for one night," Carl said into his neck, "this is as safe a place as any. Most of these guys are here with other guys. But I know it's not 100% certain that it's safe, Finn. There's always a risk, and it's one I'm willing to let you take. For one night."

Finn stood with that possibility for several minutes while Allison Iraheta began her opening set. He barely paid any attention to the music. There was clearly something about listening to live music, or performing it, that riled him up and got him ready for anything. And it was too dark to know for certain, but he thought maybe Carl was feeling the same way. He moved in front of Carl, blocking his view of the stage.

"Do you mind?" he asked. "If I take it tonight?"

He wasn't sure at first if Carl heard him over the noise of the music, but then Carl shifted his mouth two inches to the left and pressed their lips together. Finn let himself make a loud, desperate noise as he kissed him back.

It was as much a revelation as kissing Kurt on the lawn of their new house. More, maybe, because as much as Finn never, ever thought he'd be building a house with his boyfriend, he  _especially_  never, ever thought he'd be kissing Carl in front of three thousand people.

"This isn't possible," he mumbled, between kisses. "We can't — this isn't real."

"It's real tonight," was Carl's breathless response, and he really did seem to be having as much trouble breathing as Finn was. That was an unexpected thrill. "Do you want to stop?"

"What a stupid question."

Carl laughed. He stepped closer, until he was standing in front of Finn, his back brushing against Finn's chest. Over his shoulder, he turned his head to accept another kiss, and to say, "So take what you want, Finn. Tonight, you get to have all of it."

It was a heady feeling, and it stayed with him as Adam's emerged on the stage. The enthusiastic roar of the crowd as Adam worked his way through "Fever" simply mirrored his own incredulous high. When Adam reached out and slapped Tommy's ass during the performance, his own hips bucked involuntarily. Carl reached back and clasped Finn's ass in one hand, keeping Finn trapped against his own hip as they moved to the music.

Finn had to wonder: exactly how far did  _all of it_  go? Were the old rules still in play, or was this a new game?

[ _http://youtu.be/6z8QLF4XFfo_ ](http://youtu.be/6z8QLF4XFfo)

_There he goes_  
 _My baby walks so slow_  
 _Sexual tic-tac-toe_  
 _Yeah, I know we both know_  
 _It isn't time  
_ _But would you be m-mine?_

Finn couldn't see Blaine, Kurt or Puck from where he was standing, but he knew they were there somewhere in the first three rows, close enough to see the glitter on Adam's skin. Tonight, he wasn't worried about Blaine. He knew he'd be well cared for. Knowing that was true made it possible for him to lose himself in Carl, to let himself dream of what might happen after the show.

"Anything?" he dared to ask, as Adam crooned his way through "Soaked."

"Hmmm?" Carl turned his head again, his smile teasing.

"I can have anything tonight? Can I… sleep in your bed?"

"Yes."

That was already so much that Finn didn't know what to ask for next. Then Adam took a seat on stage and spoke frankly and kindly, in his ordinary way, about how important it was to love yourself first. When he launched into "Aftermath," Finn found himself clutching Carl against him, feeling more confused than ever.

Carl let him hold on through the song. Then he turned around in the circle of Finn's arms to face him. He placed a sympathetic hand on Finn's chest, over his heart. Over his tattoo. Finn touched Carl's chest, where the mirror of his own tattoo lay, covered by the taut fabric of his black t-shirt.

"I might wish for things to be different," Carl said, leaning in in close. "But you, here, right now… I can't feel bad about this."

Finn nodded. When Carl kissed him, it felt different, more intentional. Carl was taking this as seriously as he was, and that was sobering.

The rest of the concert was just as explosively energetic as the first half, but Finn found himself distracted, paying more attention to all the details of Carl's presence than he was to Adam's music. They clapped hard through "If I Had You," but near the end of the encore of "Mad World," Carl took Finn's hand and tugged him backwards toward the aisle.

"We can get out of the parking ramp faster if we leave before the crowd does," he said.

Finn followed Carl through the parking lot to the Corvette and climbed into the passenger seat. Carl pulled smoothly into the line of traffic and out into the night. In the quiet of the car, where Finn's ears were ringing despite the ear plugs, he suddenly felt a lot more hesitant to ask for all the things he'd been thinking of in the concert hall.

"It was a good concert," said Carl. "Thank Adam for the tickets, if you talk to him."

"I will," Finn said.

"I'm assuming Kurt and Puck are staying to see him, somehow?"

"Yeah. Adam got them reservations at the same hotel where he's staying. They'll make it work."

"All your boys, together." Carl grinned at him. "They're damn cute. And now Blaine's with them?"

"Well, I don't think he's  _with_  Adam…" He paused, feeling uneasy, and laughed. "Maybe he will be?"

"Would he tell you, if he did?"

"I don't think that's really my business." Finn shifted in his seat.

"I know you're not interested in restricting his involvement with anyone else."

"No, not at all. I, um." He felt a little embarrassed admitting this to Carl. "I helped Puck discipline him."

Carl was silent for a moment. "Are you considering passing control of him, permanently?"

"No." The word came out more vehement than he'd intended.  _He's mine._  He blushed. "Kurt really wants to do that for him, maybe a little too much. And I thought I could tell Blaine wanted it from Puck, but Puck wasn't sure he could do it. I just thought… if there's anything I can do to help them feel more comfortable with each other, I feel like I should do it, you know?"

"You're very generous with your boys. That's not always easy when you love someone."

Finn didn't even bother to question the unspoken assumption. He just nodded, looking at his hands.

"Finn…" Carl rested a hand on his knee. "I'm trying to… give you whatever space you need. But that doesn't mean you can't ask me for help if you need it. I'm still your mentor. I'm here for that, always, no matter what else you choose."

"I want to," Finn said. "But when I ask — when I do anything at all, around you, I want — things. Things I decided I wasn't going to have."

"Because you want to protect me."

Finn nodded, still looking down.

"Well." Carl was smiling. "I appreciate your efforts to keep me safe, Finn, but I hope you know that I didn't enter into this relationship lightly. I got everything I wanted, and so much more. It was worth the risk, then. It still is."

Finn looked across the dash and into the dark, the oncoming road. "I know that. I know all of that. But when Davis talked to me… when he told me what happened to him at his firm, I was so  _pissed_  at them for thinking they had a right to control his life like that. Your life, too." He turned his eyes on Carl with determination. "I think I realized for the first time what it would feel like to — to  _lose_  you. Like, really lose you, if you were forced to move away, or lose your license, or go to jail. If anything happened, and it was my fault…? I don't think I could live with myself."

"I understand that feeling," said Carl. "I can't tell you that won't happen. But I can tell you that both Davis and I are a lot smarter, a lot more savvy, than we were a decade ago. We have protections in place for each other and ourselves — financially, politically. I have connections you wouldn't believe."

"I'd believe it," said Finn, smiling. He reached across the car and touched Carl's shoulder. "You are just… really amazing, do you know that?"

Carl chuckled. "I'm not sure I should admit how much I love to hear you say that."

"No, I really get that. When Blaine says it, it's — the best feeling in the world." He shrugged. "I mean it, when I say it to you."

"I know." Carl's voice was tender. "That's what makes it so wonderful."

The closer they got to home, the more anticipatory Finn felt. He tried to sort out in his head the things he wanted, but they were all jumbled together, all the things he'd ever thought about doing or having with Carl.

"You're sure Ms. —  _Emma_  is okay with this?"

"With what, I wonder?" Carl asked. "With us being together? With you sleeping at the house?" He ran his hand over the steering wheel. "Maybe it would help you to know that Emma isn't interested in being sexual with me?"

Finn stared at him for a long time before he felt like he could respond to that.

" _Why?"_  he asked.

Carl laughed. "You're very good for my ego. I'm sure Tess would say I don't need the assistance. Can you imagine that there are people in the world who don't find me attractive?"

"Well, yeah, but —" He shook his head. "I know Ms. P is into you. It's pretty obvious."

"She worships me, Finn," he said gently. "It's the nature of the relationship between an owner and a slave. That doesn't say anything about her sexual orientation. At the moment, she's not interested in sex with anybody. And more than anything, she wants me to be… satisfied." He regarded Finn steadily. "Can you, perhaps, understand her motivation in asking you to resume our sexual relationship?"

"Yeah." He felt suddenly dizzy. "I — wow."

"Which is not to say I'm trying to pressure you one way or the other. I want to make that very clear."

"You're making it very hard for me to say no, though."

Carl sighed and turned off the engine. "As long as you want it."

"Oh my god."

He climbed out of the car as quickly as he could, barely able to wait until Carl did the same on his side to attack him. He let Carl guide him against the wall of the garage, finding a safe place to grind their mouths and chests and cocks together.

"I've wanted it for fucking ever," he gasped. "I think since the first day I met you. And you made me  _wait._  And — I'm wearing plug number eighteen, and —"

"Fuck," Carl muttered. He kissed Finn savagely, both hands clasped tight against his face. "I bet I could get three fingers inside you, easily."

"Four," said Finn, just to hear him groan. "Okay, maybe Kurt's fingers are a little smaller than yours, but —" He let out a yelp at the sensation of Carl's fingers, pressing on the base of the plug, digging it deeper into him.

"It's not my fingers you want inside you," said Carl.

"Yeah, I want them. Want your fingers — your tongue — your cock. All of it." He felt like he might come just from the pressure of the plug inside him. "God."

The house was quiet, all the lights turned off but the one on the stairs. Carl motioned Finn up toward his bedroom, but in the hallway, he paused.

"She's probably asleep," he said, "but I should check on her."

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Do you want me to…?" He looked at Carl's bedroom.

"Get in the shower. We'll start there. I won't be long." Carl paused to kiss him again, less urgently this time. "You can take the plug out, and wash yourself the way I taught you."

He nodded, biting back the  _yes, sir._  The words didn't seem appropriate somehow, not after the way they'd been together all night.

He'd only been in Carl's shower a couple times, but it was pretty awesome. He was grateful for a little time by himself to clean up, because as much as he was used to wearing a plug for most of the day now, it wasn't a super tidy process. Changing Beth's diapers was a piece of cake by comparison, really. Luckily Carl had everything ready and available under the sink in the bathroom.

_Actually appreciating an enema,_  he thought, grinning a little.  _Yet another thing I never thought I'd do. Along with begging a guy to stick four fingers in my ass._ He shivered.

"Have you ever been fisted?" he asked Carl when he opened the door to the shower and stepped in to join him.

"Hell of a question," Carl said, eyeing him. He ran a hand down Finn's back to rest on the curve of his bottom. "Are you thinking about that?"

"Maybe? I think it was the single-tail at Tessera over Valentine's Day that made me consider it. Because I was so sure I wouldn't want that, and when I  _did,_  I thought… well, maybe there's a whole bunch of other things I didn't know I wanted?" He closed his eyes as Carl's hand slid between his cheeks. Just touching was enough to inspire some intense sensation. "Uh… god. Yeah. And even four fingers didn't feel like too much, not when I was — god."

"Against the wall, now," Carl murmured. He deftly arranged Finn's stance, positioning his hands and shifting his balance with a nudge of his leg against Finn's hip, then pushed with a hand on the flat of his back until Finn was prone against the tile. Then his fingers slid down again, cradling Finn's balls, stroking the sensitive underside of his cock. "I've had so many fantasies about this day. You're going to have to tell me if there's anything in particular you want, or don't want."

"In your bed," Finn said. He could hear the way his words were starting to come out a little clumsy and slurred, like he'd had a lot to drink. "Want you behind me, on your side. No lube - just you."

Carl made a thoughtful noise. "Mmmm. No lube. But you said my tongue. How about that first?"

Before Finn could respond, Carl was on his knees behind him, spreading him open, and he stopped thinking for a few minutes. His fingers tightened on the tile in front of him, struggling for something to grip. He tried very hard to hold still, but the exquisite sensation quickly escalated into a single and very specific desire to be  _filled up._

"Want you," he said, twisting his head around to look down at Carl. He was being drenched by the spray of the shower, but he looked as smug as if someone had awarded him Dentist of the Year.

"You have me," said Carl.

Finn groaned, almost laughing. "Do I need to beg for it?"

Carl stood, turning face-first into the shower, then shook like a dog, his short hair sending water in all directions. He smiled. "I think… no. Not this time."

He turned off the water and stepped out onto the floor, handing Finn a towel. They dried one another off, just enough so that they wouldn't leave a puddle behind, and then Carl took Finn's hand and led him into the bedroom. The bed had been turned down, and Finn crawled inside, pulling Carl in with him.

"This is the best bed," said Finn. He alternated between kissing and looking at Carl, filling all of his senses with him.

"I believe you shouldn't skimp on something that will hold you for a third of your life," Carl said. "Not if you have a choice about it."

"I'm not sure if it's the bed itself, or because… it's yours."

"My bed is your bed, Finn. At least when I'm in it, you're welcome." He nudged Finn's shoulder. "Turn to face the window."

As good as it had felt to hold Carl in his arms at the concert, Finn was grateful to be the little spoon now. He relaxed into Carl's touch, feeling the familiar heat of his cock against his back. So many time, Carl had told him  _not yet, not until you're eighteen_ , but they'd spent many evenings in this bed, finding other ways to sate their hunger for one another.

"It hasn't been a year," said Finn. "The training —"

"I think patience is a virtue, but in this case…" He kissed Finn's ear. "I don't want to leave you questioning whether or not we'd ever do this again. And I think staying together simply to wait for a milestone like this is not enough of a reason."

"I think you want me to know exactly what it is I'd be missing," said Finn. Carl chuckled.

"Maybe."

He pulled Carl's arms closer around him, like a cloak. "What if I told you right now… I still can't be with you?"

Carl was silent. Finn studied the dark hair on his arms.

"Would you be willing to explain why? Because if it's about keeping me safe —"

"It's not," said Finn. "Or, at least, not mostly. I believe you when you say you've got things in place to protect you."

"Well, then, is it about Emma?"

He leaned his cheek back on Carl's shoulder. "Kind of. Not because I want to stand in her way. Not even because she's my guidance counselor. Because… she gets to have the kind of relationship with you that I want. The kind you told me we could never have."

"Finn," Carl began, but Finn shook his head.

"I don't want to argue about this. If you want me to go, I will." He ground back against Carl's erection. "But I want to be here, so much."

He could hear Carl's measured breathing, close by his ear. He reached out and took Carl's hand and drew it down to wrap around his cock.

"This is what I've always wanted from you," he whispered. "Not the only thing, but… definitely this. Please."

Carl went slowly, without words, reaching under the covers to pull Finn's leg up against his chest and to fit himself against Finn's hole. He never pushed hard enough to damage Finn's skin; Finn could feel the care with which he worked himself inside, a millimeter at a time. The tug was excruciating.

Long before Carl made it all the way in, Finn gripped the hand surrounding his cock and panted out, "Now, now, please," and Carl paused to stroke him quick and deliberate, until he came over Carl's fingers. Finn threw his head back against Carl's chest, writhing.

"I don't think I'm planning to stop," said Carl.

"Yeah, no. I don't think I want you to." Finn felt the fluttering of his ass around the heat and pressure of Carl, inside him. The sensation of having  _something_  inside him was familiar now, after five months of it daily, but knowing it was  _Carl,_  and that this wasn't for the sake of discipline or anything other than the pleasure of it, made him shake with reaction. He pushed back against Carl with a little gasp. "I don't think — I don't think I'm exactly done."

Carl raised himself up on one knee, leaning in against Finn, and continued those same short thrusts. It was just enough so that Finn could feel it, but never enough to even come close to causing discomfort. Finally,  _finally,_  Finn could feel the junction between their bodies, the pressure of Carl's body on top of his, as they came together. When Finn felt the first touch against his prostate, his cock jumped, and Carl let out a satisfied sigh.

"That's the difference between four fingers and a whole hand, Finn," he said. He thrust a little harder. Finn felt his eyes roll back into his head. "That. You asked me if I'd ever been fisted? The answer is  _whenever I can get it._ That. That's what keeps me wanting it, all the time. Do you feel it?"

"Yeah —" He could barely form words. "Yeah. Feel it."

"Yeah. I'll make you come again, if you want that."

The question of  _too much_  or  _too intense_  was almost irrelevant. Not when it came to this man, who'd brought him close to orgasm with the touch of a lash against his back. Finn nodded emphatically.

Carl sped up his thrusts. They were anything but gentle now. Finn had never felt anything quite so specifically designed to make him come as those short, focused jabs inside him, hitting that precise spot, over and over. He wondered vaguely if he could teach either Puck or Kurt to do that, or maybe do it himself with a toy — but then he wouldn't have Carl's hand on him, stroking him with intent, or the harsh music of Carl's own moans. The second orgasm hit him like a tackle, knocking the breath out of him.

"That was so —" Finn whimpered, reeling. "Oh my god."

"It's all for you, my boy." Carl sighed. He still wasn't stopping. "No one inspires me like you do."

It might have been the words  _my boy,_  but Finn gave up trying not to be overwhelmed, and let himself cry. Carl didn't let this slow him down. He rocked on top of Finn until he was calling out with every stroke. This definitely wasn't the calm, reserved man who'd led him into the bedroom. Finn thought Carl might be on the verge of crying himself.

"Come inside me," Finn said. "You — yeah, that — feel that, I feel you, fuck,  _yes —"_

He kept up the encouragement until Carl held him pinned, pressing him down into the bed for several long moments before finally coming to rest on top of him, one leg between Finn's.

"You'll stay tonight?" Carl asked. It didn't sound like he was begging, but definitely  _hoping._

"Yeah. If that's okay."

"That's more than okay." Finn reveled in the sensation of Carl's daily growth of beard rubbing against the skin between his shoulder blades.

"That's awesome. That… was awesome."

"It really was," Carl agreed soberly.

Carl's pillow was big enough for both of them to share. He shifted it to one side so both their heads could rest on it, facing one another. Finn put his hands in the center between them, and Carl took them both into his, cradling them against his chest.

"I was hoping," Finn said. "That it wouldn't be, you know. A disappointment. Because I'm still kind of new at this. I wanted it to be good for you, as good as it was for me."

Carl smiled at him. "You could never be a disappointment to me, Finn."

"No?" he asked, his voice sounding quiet and tentative in the silence of the room.

"No."

"You have that much faith in me not to mess up?"

"It's not about what you do. I'm just too much in love with you."

Finn cried a little more after that, but eventually that stopped too, and they lay in the moonlight, filling their eyes with one another.

"Emma," said Finn. "She loves you?"

"She says she does," Carl replied. "I trust her to know her own mind."

"She's good at taking care of people. She'll try to figure out a way to give you what you need."

Carl tried to say something in response to that, but he gave up, shaking his head. Finn kissed him instead.

"This was better than any of my fantasies," Finn said. "And trust me, I've had a lot of them."

"Yeah." Carl took a long, slow breath and let it out. "In the morning, we can try to improve on it, if you like, before we — before you go."

He closed his eyes. "I think I would like that."

* * *

__

_<http://youtu.be/AOJ4chbyuJ8> _

_I don't know what I've done_

_Or if I like what I've begun_  
 _But something told me to run  
_ _And honey you know me it's all or none_

 

_There were sounds in my head_  
 _Little voices whispering_  
 _That I should go and this should end  
_ _Oh and I found myself listening_

' _Cause I don't know who I am, who I am without you  
_ _All I know is that I should  
_ _And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you  
_ _All I know is that I should  
_ _'Cause she will love you more than I could  
_ _She who dares to stand where I stood_

_See I thought love was black and white_  
 _That it was wrong or it was right_  
 _But you ain't leaving without a fight  
_ _And I think I am just as torn inside_

_And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call_  
 _You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all_  
 _But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you  
_ _This is what I have to do_

_\- Missy Higgins, "Where I Stood"_


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some family drama, mixed with discipline, sex, Adam, cake, Puck's birthday whipping and more sex. Warning for minor and accidental bloodplay. 
> 
> I love Lauren. She's going to be an important character in the next story. 
> 
> -amy

Kurt wasn't surprised to see Lauren in the kitchen when he came upstairs on Sunday morning, putting the teapot on the stove. She gave him a nod.

"I think you might be here more often than I am these days," he said. He opened the fridge and took out the skim milk. "You and Sarah have plans today?"

"Special project," said Lauren. "Not related to the house. Although they're roughing in the electrical and plumbing under the floors tomorrow. I was thinking that somebody should be there to watch them do it, you know? Because that seems like something that could easily be fucked up."

He shook his head. "You're doing so much, both of you. I feel bad we're not—"

"Yeah, don't even." She waved a hand. "Sarah and me, we've got it covered up until the point where the construction crew puts their tools away. You get to paint and do the floors and decorate after the drywall's been mudded and the molding has been sanded."

Kurt smiled. "It's a deal."

"Plus, Beth. And  _RENT._ And Blaine." She gave him a rueful look. "You guys don't do anything small, do you?"

"Well, Blaine is kind of a special case," he began. Then he stopped, setting the milk down, and laughed. "Okay. No, I guess we don't."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying you shouldn't have this. It's fucking amazing to watch. I just don't know if I could handle it." She unwrapped a tea bag and dropped it into her cup before adding a little milk. "You've got a lot more stamina for drama than I do."

"It's been pretty low drama, actually. The — the four of us."

Kurt paused to savor that statement. Lauren watched him with curiosity.

"What is so special about him, anyway?"

"About Blaine?"

She nodded. "You and Puck and Finn, you're kind of an unexpected combination, but it's obvious you're totally into each other. And then you add Blaine, and all of a sudden it's like you can't look at anything else. All of you. So what's the deal?"

Kurt couldn't stop the blush from spreading across his face. "I don't know if I can define it for all of us. I can only speak for myself."

"But it's not like that, is it?" She was looking at him with such intensity that he had to look away. "He's not just with you. Or Puck, or Finn. How does that work? You telling me you guys all want the same thing from him?"

"No," he said slowly. He looked at his hands, remembering what they'd felt like on Adam's bottom earlier that week. "But we don't always want the same things all the time, either. Blaine just… wants what we want." He blanched. "God, that sounds creepy."

"Yeah, maybe a little," Lauren said. "At least it would be if you guys were taking advantage of him."

She waited while Kurt thought. Finally, he shook his head. "I honestly don't think we're doing that. I think he's actually happy. He gets something from each of us, and he needs — all of it."

The tea kettle whistled. Lauren turned off the stove and poured the water into her cup.

"Sarah's got an interesting perspective on all of you," she said. "When she was planning this house, I didn't realize she was planning it  _for you._  I knew about Puck, and kind of about you, but not that she intended it for you and Finn and Puck. But it wasn't just that. Because she knew there would be another person."

" _The person who comes next."_  Kurt tilted his head. "She told us about that. That was before Blaine — at least before Noah and I met him."

"Yeah, but I think, in her eleven-year-old way, she knew there was someone missing? That there would have to be somebody, someday, because you needed a person like Blaine."

Kurt paused in his answer as Finn moved into the kitchen doorway. He nodded at Lauren. "Hey. You guys working on the cake?"

"Sarah went with Carole to get the flour," said Lauren. "Guess you didn't have the right kind in the cupboard."

Kurt put an arm around Finn. "My dad mentioned a cake, but I'm still in the dark. What's the plan?"

"Puck won't be back from picking up Beth from Shelby's until one," he said. "Sarah thought this would be the only time she'd get to work on his birthday cake before he got back."

"Like, one of those fancy fondant cakes he made for… um." Kurt frowned. "I don't know if it's a good idea to try to out-cake Noah."

"No, not that kind. She seems to have a pretty clear idea of how she wants it to come out. Something about red velvet but with rainbows. Which, isn't that kind of awesome?" Finn grinned. He picked up the milk, poured a tall glass and drank half of it in three swallows. "Anyway, I said I would get the ingredients out before they got home."

They assembled them on the counter according to Sarah's emailed list. Lauren read the list while Kurt and Finn looked through the cupboard and fridge. He noticed Finn was looking at Lauren in kind of a funny way.

"What did you mean," Finn asked, "that Kurt needed a person like Blaine?"

"Not Kurt," she said. She set the baking soda beside the salt. "All of you guys."

"That's not how it is for me and Blaine." The words sounded automatic to Kurt, like Finn had said them too many times and he was getting tired of setting the record straight.

"You know you don't have to explain it to me." Lauren made a little snort. "You're just as important as the guys who are fucking him."

Kurt hadn't done  _that_  with Blaine, but he wasn't going to correct Lauren on details about his sex life. "More," he added, "in a lot of ways, Finn. You know it's true."

Finn didn't answer him. He took the butter out of the fridge and put it on the stove. "So what kind of person is Blaine, that you think we need him?"

Lauren wasn't stupid. For whatever reason, Finn was goading her, and she could tell. She just gazed at him, her narrow brows raised. "He's a sub. I'd guess in just about every sense of the word. I'm not telling you anything you don't know, am I?"

Finn shook his head. "He's submitting to Puck. I think he'll be ready to do that with you soon, Kurt."

"He, um…" Kurt glanced once at Lauren before going on, quickly, "we did that. He asked for it."

"That's what I'm saying," said Lauren. She sounded very calm and reasonable, which was completely at odds with Finn's incredulous stare. Kurt just looked back, feeling a little defiant.

They were still staring at one another when the front door opened and Carole called, "We could use a hand, here."

"I'll do it." Lauren was already on her way out to the foyer. Finn immediately moved in close, grasping Kurt's shoulder in one hand, almost tight enough to hurt.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"Blaine." Kurt took a deep breath. "He said he wanted — all of us. To belong to all of us, to all three of us. You, Noah, and me."

Finn's consternation melted away into a much gentler, more startled surprise. "He did?"

"I told him he would need to ask you first. That we couldn't do that with him until he talked to you about it." He touched Finn's chest. "It just seemed appropriate."

Finn's smile was almost pleased. "Baby. That's — when did he say this?"

"Before Adam's concert. I'm surprised he hasn't come to you about it."

The smile faded, but Finn hugged him. "I think I know why. Anyway… I won't make him wait to bring it up."

Sarah came in first, carrying a big bag of groceries. She set it on the counter with a tremendous sigh. "We had to go to two places to get everything."

"We could have managed without the exact ingredients," Carole said, following her with a second bag.

"No way. I'm not using any stupid all-purpose flour in this. We're using self-rising pastry flour. And cream cheese frosting, not buttercream. It's tons better." Sarah reached into the second bag and handed Kurt a stack of disposable cake pans. "Seven - one for each color in the rainbow. We got the good gel colors." She grinned triumphantly at Lauren. "This is going to be  _awesome._  Come on, each of us can do a color and whoever's done first can do two."

Finn stayed close to Kurt the whole time they were mixing the batter, adding the ingredients one at a time to the bowl of Puck's KitchenAid. The way Finn was hovering made Kurt feel particularly protective of him. Nobody brought it up, although everyone had kind of been tiptoeing around Finn for a while now, ever since his breakup with Carl in June. Kurt wouldn't have expected Lauren to be sensitive to Finn's mood, but she was just as kind and careful as the rest of them.

The colors were brilliant. Sarah looked at each with a critical eye before giving the okay to put them in the oven: seven six-inch pans, each filled with a thin layer of cake batter.

"There's no way Noah's not going to notice these in the refrigerator," Kurt said as they closed the oven door.

"I'm taking them home with me," Lauren said. "And I'll make sure my parents swear not to touch them, no matter how good they look. Those are some pretty intense colors."

"I'll make the frosting tonight," Sarah said. "After you and Noah leave for rehearsal, I'll get the cakes back from Lauren and put the layers together. It'll be waiting for tomorrow night. And dinner."

"Dinner?" Finn asked hopefully.

"I've got it all covered," she said. She turned to Carole. "This cake was your idea. I hope you don't mind I took it and ran with it."

"No, no, honey, it's fine. I wouldn't have made nearly as good a cake." Carole glanced at Finn. "It's because of what Noah said about Ruth — about his mother. She made him a cake every birthday. There's no way I can replace that experience for him, but I didn't want to miss the opportunity. And Burt's going to help frost it, so it'll be from both of us."

Finn looked a little overcome, but he hugged his mom, whispering thanks.

Sarah made  _huevos rancheros_  for lunch while Finn did his Spanish homework. "There's no way I'm not getting at least a B+," Finn said when Kurt asked him how it was going. "Miss Holliday is totally hilarious. I wish she could teach us Spanish all the time. No offense to Mr. Schue. Anyway, I think I might actually keep going with Spanish in junior year, even if she's not going to be our teacher."

Lauren was long gone by the time Puck was scheduled to be home, and they'd aired out the kitchen to get rid of the baking smells. But Puck stormed through the front door twenty minutes later, slamming it behind him and growling something incoherent before disappearing with Beth into the bedroom. He didn't say one word about the way the kitchen smelled. Finn looked uneasily at Kurt.

"I'll go in," Kurt told him. "You might want to put lunch away for later, though."

Puck ignored him as he came into the room. He was changing Beth's diaper with efficient, practiced motions, fuming and muttering while he did it. Then he gathered her up and plopped her onto his chest, lying on his back on the bed. Kurt waited a moment before sitting beside them.

"Sarah made lunch," he said.

"Not hungry," Puck grunted.

He rested a hand on Puck's leg. "Do you want to tell me what this is about now or later?"

Puck didn't bother to glare  _at_  him. He was just glaring at the wall, the ceiling, everything around them. Kurt could see the pain in his eyes. "It's not gonna help."

"No, I know, but at least I'll know what I'm spanking you for."

He had the courtesy to at least look sheepish. "It's Adam." He let his head fall back on his pillow, patting Beth automatically as she fussed. "Last night, while we were at Toby's. I was talking to him before bed and he just… he saw the picture I posted of her. How much she's grown."

"He was there for her whole first month," Kurt said.

"That makes it worse, though. Because he got to see how much — how much things change. He knows exactly what he's missing, and… it's fucking killing me." Puck's voice cracked, and he made a noise of frustration. "I feel like I tricked him, kind of. I gave him something he didn't even know he wanted, and then —"

"Noah," Kurt said severely. "You didn't trick him at all. He's perfectly capable of making his own choices about what he does. He stayed with you as long as he could. He's doing what we all dream of: he made it. He's performing, and they love him."

Puck was starting to drop the bravado, and his control was coming down with it. Kurt reached out and took Beth off his chest, and Puck immediately curled up with his head in Kurt's lap.

"I know we just saw him," Puck said. "But it's my birthday tomorrow, and I don't know when he's coming  _back,_  and — and it was just, you know. A hard day."

"I can tell." Kurt stroked Puck's head with his free hand. "I think you need to eat something, but after that, I'll take you downstairs and cuff you to the bed for a while, and you can be a good boy and do what I tell you."

Puck exhaled. "Yes sir."

He was more himself after that, more Noah and less Puck. Kurt was glad Lauren hadn't been there to see him angry. He wasn't sure if Lauren would judge him for being out of control or not, but he guessed she didn't give boys much leeway.

As they finished their last bites of eggs and tortilla, Kurt's phone on the table buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then away. Puck watched him.

"Blaine?" he asked.

"Dave," said Kurt. He pushed a slice of _jalapeño_ pepper around on his plate. "I'm trying to decide if I should invite him to the performance."

Finn nodded. "He'll be back from camp by then?"

"Yes, he'll be here."

Carole shook her head. "I don't know, Kurt. Dave's been so hurtful to you. I don't trust he wouldn't hurt Blaine, too."

"No, I don't think he'll hurt him. He's very protective of Blaine. And I think Blaine would listen if Dave apologized. I just don't know if Dave is ready to do that."

Sarah gave him an expectant look. "He's the boy you met at the astronomy lab, right? The one who likes Blaine?"

"That's him."

"So what'd he say when you told him you and Blaine were together?"

Kurt didn't say anything. Puck gave him a little astonished kick under the table.

"You haven't  _told_  him yet? Does he know about me and Blaine?"

"No — I mean, yes, he knows. He knows about all of us. I told him all of it." Kurt looked at his plate. "Then he hung up. That's the last I heard from him, weeks ago."

"Yeah, well, what'd you expect? He's got to have some time to freak out before he comes around." Puck leaned in a little closer to Kurt. "You know on Matt's last day of Glee, how Matt sang something with Mr. Schue and me? Did Dave tell you he was in the instrument closet in the corner, watching?"

Kurt blinked. "He was?"

"Yeah. I told him he shouldn't miss Matt's last performance, no matter how pissed off he was. He shouldn't miss Blaine's either. Not that this is Blaine's last performance or anything."

"You're making way too much sense." He leaned over and left a kiss on Puck's cheek. As he backed away, he whispered, "I'll be downstairs."

Kurt wasn't sure if Dave would even answer his texts, but he figured that was a reasonable place to start.  _Is this a bad time to talk?_ he wrote.

Dave responded right away.  _If you're going to tell me about another one of my friends you're fucking, it is._

 _We're not doing that, Dave._ He rolled his eyes at himself. Like Dave would think what they were doing was any better. But Dave had called Blaine  _my friend._  That was a good sign.  _I wanted to invite you to our performance._

_So I can see you guys all over one another?_

_So you can see Blaine on stage,_  he typed.  _He's worked very hard at this show, and he's amazing._

_Of course he's fucking amazing._

_I guess you know just what I mean, then._  Kurt climbed onto his bed, moving as far back as he could fit into the corner. The pillows were positioned to give him a way to feel enclosed, but he hadn't felt like he'd needed them for a long time, not since Finn and Puck had moved back in.  _Look, Dave, I'm sorry I hurt you, but I'm really doing this for Blaine. He wants to see you. He told me himself. But I'm not going to trick you into showing up. You needed to know about us first._

_I just can't believe you did this to me._

He felt a surge of annoyance.  _To you? What does my relationship with Blaine have to do with you?_

_Not Blaine. You let me believe that there were good people out there, Kurt. People who might actually want to be friends with me._

"Why do you think I'm talking to you, you selfish imbecile," he muttered. He typed,  _I do want to be your friend, Dave, and so does Blaine. You're going to have to decide if you can deal with Blaine's choices about who he wants to date._

_You just said you were doing this for Blaine._

_I am. You were horrible to him, and you owe him an apology._

Puck opened the door. When he saw Kurt's stormy expression, he paused. "Do you want me to —?"

"Over here," Kurt said. "Right now."

He set the phone down and opened the drawer beside the bed. Ever since that first night that Blaine had watched him submit, Puck's collar had lived in his room. Kurt buckled it on him with brisk efficiency.

"Did you clean up the kitchen?" Kurt asked.

"Yes sir." Puck was calm, waiting for Kurt's lead, but knowing how agitated he'd been earlier, Kurt didn't let that fool him. If he was going to be honest with himself,  _he_  was the one who needed calming more than Puck did.

Without peeking at the cell phone to see if Dave had responded yet, he reached under his pillow and grasped the wooden paddle Adam had sent. Then he placed it in Puck's startled hand. Puck stared at the paddle, then at Kurt.

"Uh…" he said.

"I'm in charge," Kurt said. "I need this. Make it hurt. That's an order."

Without hesitation, Puck nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir."

He made no move to help as Kurt peeled off his own jeans. As soon as they were folded and set on his dressing table, Kurt positioned himself over the edge of the bed.

"There's really nothing to hold on to this way," Puck said.

"I'm fine," Kurt snapped. Then he buried his face in the duvet as Puck brought the paddle down hard. It was a lot harder than what he was used to from Finn — not the most challenging pain in the world, but bad enough to cause him to make some noise. He let the duvet absorb the worst of it. It was to Puck's credit that he didn't flinch, or ask if Kurt was sure. He was following his directions.

 _To the letter,_  Kurt thought. The tears squeezed out and smeared his cheeks. He adjusted his stance, relaxing his body as best as he could, and nodded.  _More._

Puck stopped after three more swats, then placed a hand on top of the raw skin of his behind.

"Shit." He sounded dismayed. "You're bleeding."

Kurt heaved himself off the bed, craning his neck to look. "You're kidding."

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I really didn't — I didn't even know I  _could,_  with the paddle…" Puck grabbed his hand, tossing the offending tool onto the rug, and brought Kurt into the bathroom. Kurt positioned his ass toward the mirror and inspected the damage.

"It's like wraparound," Kurt said. "It's not really anything. Not even as bad as the marks that Carl's whip make. You had worse at Finn's hand from the cane."

"But I didn't know." Puck was clearly horrified. "I didn't  _mean_  to do that. What if —"

He stopped. Kurt touched his chin, watching the distress cross his features.

"You won't hurt Blaine, sweetheart," he said.

"But I  _could."_

"That's a risk we're always going to take in a relationship like this."  _Or any relationship,_ he thought, taking Puck in his arms. He kissed him. "You did exactly what I asked you to do."

He kept Puck there in his arms until he was sure Puck knew he hadn't done anything wrong. Then he walked back to the bed and unbuckled Puck's collar, kissing him once more before lying gingerly on his stomach.

"Would you get Finn, please?" he asked. "I want to ask him a question."

While Puck hurried upstairs to get Finn, Kurt reached for his phone. It was with some dread that he looked to see if Dave had responded to his last text about apologizing to Blaine.

 _He doesn't want that from me,_  Dave said. Then, ten minutes later, a second text:  _I wouldn't deserve it, even if he did._

Kurt didn't respond. Dave could blame himself for their conflict if he had to. Kurt had communicated what Blaine had asked for, and he'd told Dave the truth about their relationship. That was the best he could do.

Finn opened the door a moment later. He sucked in a breath when he saw Kurt's behind. "Jesus."

"I am  _not_  going to ask your mom," Kurt said, "but do you have any more of that magic ointment she gave you for the cane welts?"

Finn went into the bathroom. He returned a minute later with a tub of cream. "Do you want me to…?"

"I think Noah should do it. Is he in the hallway?"

"I'm here," came Puck's mumbled voice. He peered around the edge of the door, chewing on his lip. "Kurt… I'm really sorry."

"Come here," Kurt said firmly. Puck came over immediately and sat beside him on the bed. "You know I would punish you if I thought you had done something wrong. But I'm not punishing you. All right? Now put that ointment on the cuts, please."

Finn sat beside Puck, his hand wrapped around the nape of Puck's neck, while he did it. He nodded at the phone. "Did you tell Dave?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"See for yourself." Kurt nudged the phone toward Finn with one finger.

Finn paged through their conversation. He nodded, setting the phone down. "Looks about what I would expect from Dave."

"He's a worse drama queen than I am," said Kurt, and winced as Puck's fingers passed over a particularly raw spot.

"It sucks to love somebody and not have them love you back," said Puck. "No wonder he's pissed. He gets to watch all of us have what he can't have."

"He can't  _have_  someone who doesn't want to be  _had,"_  Finn said gently. "Blaine might belong to us, but he's offering himself to us because he wants it."

Puck paused in spreading the ointment and looked at Finn.

"To… us?" he said softly.

"To all of us," Finn said. "He's my boy… and yours. And Kurt's."

Kurt turned to see Puck abandon the container of salve and bury himself, shuddering, in Finn's arms.

"You can  _say_  that?" he said, his voice muffled in Puck's chest. "You would trust me with him? After what I just did to Kurt?"

"That?" Finn was smiling. "That's nothing. Wait until you see what we do to you with the single-tail on your birthday."

Kurt watched all the motion in Puck come to a halt. When he tried to jerk back, Finn kept him still.

"I've been practicing," he whispered into Puck's ear. "I'm taking you to Carl's office. He's got a St. Andrew's cross waiting just for you. And I get to help. How's that sound? Too scary?"

"Oh, fuck," Puck moaned.

Finn gave Kurt a satisfied grin, placing the salve back in Puck's trembling fingers. "Guess that answers that question."

* * *

Puck wiped his mouth and dropped his napkin on the table, grinning at Carole as she passed Beth over to him. "Okay, squirt. You ready for my judgment on your birthday dinner attempt?"

"Tell me whatever you want," said Sarah, crossing her arms. "I know that salmon was awesome."

"It was a hell of a lot better than the fish we ate at Coco's Bistro in Dayton that one night, I'll tell you that. Remember that, Kurt? Stupid overpriced mahi."

Blaine smiled at Kurt. "Is that the night I'm thinking it was?"

Kurt sighed. "I should never bother to try taking Noah to a fancy restaurant."

"Hey, I chose that place," Finn objected. "You can totally blame me for the bad fish."

"But you weren't there," Blaine said.

"No, I was home. It was Kurt and Puck's date, but I planned it. We tried this date night thing a couple times." He glanced over at Puck. "It kind of backfired on us."

"I don't know, I think it was nice," Kurt said.

Blaine looked enchanted. "I love that idea! Planning a date for your other two boyfriends."

Finn grinned. "We could do that again some time. But I think Puck was telling Sarah how perfect the salmon was…?"

Puck stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It wasn't dry, I'll give it that. The wasabi was good, but maybe a little too heavy. Cut it with aioli next time." He smirked at Blaine. "When she was a kid, she called it  _yoli."_

"Dude," she said, her voice deadly. "You sure you're ready for me to pull out the stories about when  _you_  were a kid?"

"All right, forget it. I'd say… a seven."

"Seven!" She tossed her head. "What a crap rating. You ate two pieces. I don't think you can logically give me less than an eight and a half if you  _wanted_  more."

"I was hungry."

"It was amazing," Kurt told her, reaching out and taking Sarah's hand. "Best salmon I've ever had, and I'm not lying."

She stuck out her tongue at Puck. "Maybe I should just tell Lauren not to bother bringing over dessert."

"Hey!" Puck said, sitting forward in outrage. Beth made a noise of complaint, and Blaine laughed, reaching for her.

"Let me. You don't want to get wax on her blanket."

The doorbell rang, and his dad went to answer it while Carole quickly cleared away the dinner dishes. Puck didn't take his eyes off the doorway. When Lauren walked in, carrying perhaps the tallest cake Kurt had ever seen, he laughed out loud.

" _You_  made me a fucking  _cake?"_  he said to Lauren.

"No, we just frosted it at my house," she said. She set it on the table. "Sarah made the cake. And your parents."

His mouth closed and he looked first at Carole, then Kurt, then at the cake again. He didn't look at Kurt's dad.

"My… parents," he repeated.

"Foster parents. Whatever. It's their fault. Come on, you haven't seen the best part. Where's the big knife?"

Sarah reached over and set Puck's new chef's knife in front of him, the one James had given him to replace the unfortunate blade he'd used to slash the tires in the Vocal Adrenaline Range Rovers. "Should we do candles first?"

Sarah stood back, holding up her camera. "For Lydia," she said, waving it in the air. "She'll want to see this."

Puck still seemed stuck on pause. Kurt watched as his dad walked over with a small flat box of birthday candles in his hand.

"Seventeen," he said. "You're going to have to help me with this."

Without a word, Puck took the candles and inserted them into the thick frosting one at a time. When they reached seventeen, Burt struck a match and lit them. Even Lauren sang "Happy Birthday" with everyone.

Blaine gave their already-joined hands a gentle shake. "Make a wish?"

Puck took a look around the table in a kind of bewildered thoughtfulness.

"Nothing left to wish for," he said.

"How about a little ordinary peace and quiet?" His dad rested a hand on his shoulder. "You deserve it."

Puck settled a little into his chair. "Maybe I could… make a wish for everybody else? Or is that breaking the birthday code?"

His dad laughed. "I think you can do that."

He managed to blow them all out at once, and as they all clapped, Blaine leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Puck stared at Blaine for two seconds, then hauled him into a bigger kiss, with tongue and everything. The clapping turned into friendly catcalls. Blaine was red-faced when he sat back, but he was laughing.

"Just cut the damn thing, Puckerman," Lauren said in aggravation.

"That," said Puck, pointing at her. "That name. I can wish to get rid of that."

"I'm sure we could arrange that," said Carole, looking surprised, "if you wanted it."

He and Sarah both nodded. "When it's official, you know?" she said. "I was just waiting."

"Waiting for what?" asked Finn.

"For when we figure out name to use," she said, as though it was obvious. "For everybody."

This didn't seem to throw Puck, and he cut into the cake with gusto, making appropriately pleased noises at the brilliant layers of rainbow color. But Lauren looked pensive. While Puck deftly carved eight slices of cake and deposited them onto plates, Kurt moved in close beside her.

"Thanks for your help," he said. "It wouldn't have been nearly as good a surprise without it."

"Sure." She watched Puck laughing with Blaine. "I can't get over how different he is."

"When he can drop the act, he's a lot happier," Kurt said. "Sometimes it takes him a little while to get there. A little effort on our part. But he'd really rather  _not_  be a brat."

"It's not even that. It's… this place. All of you, together." She cupped her hands together, like she was enclosing a ball, or a tiny, fragile bird. "You give him a space to be  _all_  of himself."

"We all get to be that." He eyed her envious face. "You too, maybe?"

"Nah. I get to be that all the time, everywhere. But the consequence is that I do it alone." She shook her head slowly. "You're not."

Kurt touched her hand in sympathy, letting go quickly when she jerked away. "I know how it feels to be alone."

She frowned at him. "Yeah, maybe. It's not a big deal. It's just what it is."

(The cake: [https://kerrycooks.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/cimg4126.jpg](http://kerrycooks.com/easy-6-layer-rainbow-cake-step-by-step/))

They took slices of cake. Lauren set hers on the table while she unpacked what looked like a small zippered purse. Inside was a syringe, a set of little rectangles of paper and a pen-sized device. She held it up to her finger and pushed a button. When she pulled it away, there was a dot of blood on her fingertip.

Kurt realized he was staring. He looked up to see Lauren watching with amusement.

"Don't tell me you're squeamish about blood," she said.

He shook his head, grinning to himself as he thought about what Noah had done to him with the paddle. "What's it for?"

"I'm diabetic." She used one of the rectangles of paper to soak up her blood, then inserted it into a little machine that beeped when she turned it on. "If I'm going to eat cake, I'd sure as hell better check my blood sugar first."

He couldn't help ask, "Didn't you ask for payment in donuts one time?"

"Yeah, they were for my dad. You can guess how often my mom buys sweets at our house. He's got a total thing for the little sprinkles." She checked the readout on the machine, then picked up the syringe, pulled her shirt aside, and injected herself quickly into the skin of her stomach. Kurt couldn't help shudder.

"I'm not sure I could do that."

"Give me a break," she said, laughing. "You've done all  _sorts_  of shit this year. You could do this, if you had to."

Puck proclaimed the cake to be a nine, which made Sarah smile a lot. He looked happy and content sitting with Blaine, but when Kurt came over to him and murmured, "Adam would like to talk to us," he got up quickly and followed Kurt downstairs.

They sat on the green couch with Kurt's laptop propped on the coffee table, each of them wearing one earbud.

"Sarah will keep Lauren upstairs," Kurt told him, "and Blaine will take care of Beth until we're done."

Puck's face split in an enormous smile as Adam's face appeared on the screen. Adam's face was plastered with his stage makeup, but he was wearing a confetti-strewn party hat with a sprig of shiny ribbons coming out of the top. He grinned at the two of them, coming closer to the webcam.

" _I'm not on speaker?"_  he asked in a low voice.

"Private session," Kurt said, jiggling the white cord to his earbuds. Adam nodded, glancing at the door.

" _Crystal will kill me if she finds out I'm doing this, but what the hell. Noah, you only turn seventeen once."_ He opened his mouth, and in a breathy, outrageously campy Marilyn Monroe voice, he sang:

 _Happy birthday to you  
_ _Happy birthday to you  
_ _Happy birthday dear Noah…  
_ _Happy birthday to you_

On the last line, he paused, then broke into one of his signature runs. Kurt clutched Puck's hand, smiling with delight. Puck made a little strangled noise, leaning forward, his face hungry.

"You're way too hot to be wearing that hat," he said, his voice hoarse.

" _I wear far sillier things on stage, trust me. Oh, never mind. You've seen them."_ Adam smiled in satisfaction. " _I won't keep you long, we're about to go on. I just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you. Are you being a good boy?"_

"He's going with Finn over to Carl's office later," Kurt said. "They're going to chain him to the St. Andrew's cross."

Adam half-groaned, half-squealed.  _"Oh, honey. I'm not sure if you realize what that just did to me. My fans in Chesaning, Michigan are going to see very clearly exactly how turned on I am in these leather pants."_

"Awesome." Puck sighed. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

" _At the moment, I only have one request."_ Adam glanced offscreen, calling,  _"Five minutes, Ange."_  To Puck, he said, somewhat wistfully, " _Can you get Bethie?"_

"Uh — totally." Puck scrambled to his feet, ditching the earbud. "Be right back."

Kurt was left alone looking at Adam, watching the expression of longing on his face, which had nothing to do with Puck — or, at least, nothing to do with sex with Puck.

"I asked him to paddle me yesterday," Kurt said.

Adam's glitter-painted eyes went wide.  _"Oh — Kurt."_

"Yeah." He looked down at his hands. "He did just what he was asked. Even made me bleed a little. It was fine, it didn't hurt."

" _Liar,"_  Adam said softly. He reached out and touched the screen, below Kurt's field of vision. " _You can cry about it."_

Such was Adam's effect on Kurt that he did cry, just for a few moments, while Adam sat with him. Quickly enough, the tears turned to sniffles. By the time Puck returned with Beth, he'd wiped his face and was calm again.

Adam made incredulous cooing noises when he saw her, clutching his hands around his own arms.  _"She's never going to recognize me in this makeup,"_ he said.

"She'll recognize your voice," Puck said. He held the earbud to her tiny ear, and watched, smiling, while Adam crooned to her in much the same way he'd been singing to Puck. Beth did indeed react, her whole body alert and listening.

"There you go, baby girl," Puck murmured. "There he is. You remember."

" _I really have to go,"_  Adam said reluctantly.  _"Gotta keep my mind in the game. I love you, both of you."_

Puck lowered his gaze, just a little nod of his head. "Thank you, Adam."

" _Happy birthday, honey. You be good, now. Don't draw any more blood."_

He snapped his head over to Kurt as the screen went dark, looking momentarily horrified.  _"_ You told him?"

"You know how it is," Kurt said. "We don't keep things from Adam.  _Right?"_

"Uh — " Puck cringed a little at the sudden sharp tone. "No, sir."

"That's better." He patted Puck's thigh. "Go into the shower and get clean. We're heading over to Carl's in about ten minutes."

While Puck showered, Blaine came downstairs to stand in Kurt's bedroom doorway, holding Beth and watching Kurt change his shirt.

"Finn told me you talked to Dave," he said.

"If by  _talking_ ,you mean I told him things and he yelled at me for them, you're right." Kurt buttoned the last button, then went to stand beside Blaine. It still didn't feel quite ordinary to have Blaine and Beth together in his arms, but neither Blaine nor Beth seemed to mind it at all.

"Carole said she'd take care of Bethie, but… do you want me to stay here?" Blaine asked. "While you're —"

"No," Kurt said. Blaine closed his mouth, and Kurt said it again, more gently. "No. I mean, that's up to you, honey, but none of us would ask you not to come. You know how Noah is when he submits. And you  _know_  what Carl's office is like."

Blaine blushed, ducking his head. "I do know," he said. "Both of those things. I'm not worried. You'll be there, right?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Well, then." Blaine sighed, leaning against him. "It'll be fine. You always make me feel safe."

It was a wonderful compliment, even if it wasn't exactly what he wished he evoked in Blaine.  _Safe_  was better than a lot of things.

By the time Puck was dried and dressed, Finn was waiting for them in the Navigator. Kurt moved the car seat base out of the back so both he and Blaine could sit beside Puck. As soon as Puck had his seat belt on, Kurt took out his collar and set it in his lap. Puck held it, his fingers tense with anticipation.

"The cake was really good," Blaine said. "Sarah worked hard on that for you."

"Yeah, I know." Puck kept his gaze on his lap. "It was Carole's idea."

"Your family gets to take care of you," Kurt reminded him. "It's not just Sarah anymore. It's all of us. We all do things for one another. That's the way it should be."

Blaine met Kurt's eyes across Puck. "I don't know if you get how weird that is, Kurt."

Kurt tilted his chin up. "I don't care if our family is weird."

Blaine shook his head. "No… not that. I'm saying it's weird to be able to  _count_  on your family. I didn't grow up with that, and neither did Puck." He slid his hand over and into Puck's, brushing the collar with two fingers. Puck transferred his grip to Blaine's, intertwining their fingers and holding on tight. "It's just hard to remember sometimes that's even an option."

Kurt nodded slowly. "You're right. I do forget that." He touched Puck's head, freshly shaved, watching him shiver. "Thank you for the reality check."

He smiled at Kurt. "I know today's not about me, but thanks for listening, anyway."

"You're wrong," Puck said. His voice was jagged, like he was forging each word from whatever resources he had inside him. He shook his hand in Blaine's. "This is totally about you. What do you think I wished for?"

Blaine's mouth opened and closed as his eyes flickered around the car and he struggled to respond.

"You're not supposed to tell your wishes," he said at last.

"I won't tell, then." Puck pulled Blaine's hand to his chest, kissing it, then clasping it in both of his. Blaine closed his eyes, working to keep his breath even.

"You have me, anyway. You have me already."

Finn didn't say anything the entire way across town to Carl's office. After parking the car, he turned around and faced them.

"I'm in charge," he said softly. "Carl said that was the way it should be. He's going to be helping me, but it's as a tool, not as a Top. Just so there's no confusion. Ask me if you're not sure. All right?"

"Yes, sir," said Puck and Blaine, at nearly the same time. Kurt broke into a smile as Finn turned red.

"Yes, sir," Kurt echoed, his smile lingering. Finn nodded, exhaling slowly.

"Blaine, if you're having trouble, go to Kurt. I can deal with you later. I'm here for Puck."

He nodded immediately. "I understand."

"That's good."

They paused at the door while Finn rummaged in his pocket and took out a ring of keys. Kurt nudged him. "How did you manage to get those?"

"I told Carl I didn't want to deal with Mark," he muttered darkly. "Not on Puck's birthday."

Kurt barely remembered Mark from their brief meeting at Tessera, but the way Finn described him, he wasn't at all clear why Finn should hate him so much. He wasn't going to challenge him on it at the moment, but he filed it away for future reference.

They came into the empty office and Finn locked the glass door behind them. At the foot of the stairs, Finn took Puck's collar and buckled it around his neck, then gave his butt a pat.

"Upstairs, room six. Shirt off, keep your jeans on." He turned to Kurt as Puck took the stairs two at a time. "You want a part in this?"

"I think I want to watch you," he said. He put his arms around Blaine, feeling him trembling. "But if you need anything from me, I'll be ready."

"Thank you, baby." Finn scratched his eyebrow, relaxing into a grin. "This isn't my first time using the whip on skin, but… it's the first time with Puck, you know? I don't want to screw up."

Kurt touched his arm. "You know he'd forgive you if you did."

"I know. I'm not freaking out. Maybe I've got a little stage fright. I think you guys get it."

"Of course," Blaine said. He hesitated. "Who…  _have_  you practiced on?"

Finn laughed. "A lot of pumpkins. I didn't get to touch skin until I proved I could avoid making gouges, and that my thirtieth strike was as even as my first. But the first person… it was Carl."

"Oh." Blaine stared up at Finn. "Um… wow. Was that hard?"

"Not any harder than anything else we've been doing," said Finn. "He let me work on Davis eventually. And, yeah, I made some mistakes." He pulled the hair aside at his temple and pointed out a thin line of scar, then similar ones on his forearms and left knee. "Stupid mistakes. And he said I either have to wear a wide-brimmed hat or plastic safety glasses, so I'm gonna apologize for the hat in advance. But I don't think I'm likely to hurt him."

"Hat?" Blaine said.

"Yeah, you'll see. Go on, I'll be up in a minute." He squeezed Kurt's shoulder, then disappeared through the door at the end of the hall into Carl's office.

"Are you sure this isn't too —" Kurt asked, but Blaine cut him off, shaking his head.

"It's not. I'm not saying it won't be intense, but… I really want it." Blaine laughed softly, and kissed Kurt. "I'm not going to miss this. It's part of… being part of things. Even if I'm not exactly family, it really feels good."

 _You're family if you want to be,_  Kurt wanted to say, but he knew this wasn't the time or place. He took Blaine's hand. "All right. Let's go help Noah get ready for Finn."

They found Carl sitting upstairs in the octagonal atrium, rubbing some kind of oil into a long brown coil of whip. He stood and gave them both a genuine smile, reaching for handshakes that turned into hugs. To Blaine, he said, "I wasn't sure if you'd be here or not."

"It's good to see you," Blaine said. "I'm sorry about what happened with, um, Finn. And the band…" He shook his head helplessly.

"Yes, well." Carl seemed calm. "I don't think it's going to be like that forever. Finn and I are communicating. We can take our time figuring out what works for all of us." He nodded at the door to room six. "Are you ready?"

Carl opened the door slowly, looking inside before holding it wide and ushering Kurt and Blaine in ahead of him. Blaine followed, pausing for only a moment when he saw Puck suspended by collar and cuffs from the St. Andrew's cross. They went where Carl indicated, nodding at the couch in the corner, and sat while Carl brought the whip over to Finn.

Finn was wearing a brown leather hat, not unlike the one Indiana Jones wore. It was probably good that he'd warned Kurt about it in advance, because otherwise Kurt would have been hard pressed not to laugh out loud when he saw it. Blaine, on the other hand, looked delighted.

"Wow, he's so… I don't know,  _intimidating_  in that," he whispered. Kurt stifled his snicker.

"Hell of a lot better than plastic eye protectors," he whispered back.

Finn checked Puck's suspension cuffs and the chain through his collar, moving in very close behind him as he did so. Watching them, Blaine let out a whimper.

"Are you going to be able to stay quiet?" Kurt asked him. He brushed Blaine's cheek with the back of his fingers. "I can help if you think you'll need that. We don't want to distract Finn."

"No — no." He took a shaky breath and settled back into Kurt's arms. "I'll keep it down."

Finn picked up the coiled leather. "Do you remember what Carl told you at Tessera about where to look?" they heard him ask Puck.

"Yes sir." Puck's voice came out thick and indistinct. "Keep my eyes on the mirror."

"That's right." He glanced over his shoulder at Kurt and Blaine. "You two, stay on the gray carpet, and you'll be out of range."

Finn placed a hand on Puck's bare back in a brief caress, and Puck's muscles shifted as he relaxed under Finn's touch. Finn leaned in and whispered something into Puck's ear.

"He's a good boy," Kurt told Blaine, and Blaine caught his breath.

"He's — not, exactly. He does what he thinks is right."

Kurt hugged Blaine tighter. "Well, he's  _my_  good boy, and Finn's. He does what we tell him. But I'm so glad he gives you what you need."

"You all do," Blaine murmured.

He felt a thrill of satisfaction and desire at Blaine's simple declaration. "That's what we want," he said. "We all want to take care of you."

Blaine turned his head and hid his face in Kurt's shirt, so his words came out quiet enough that only they could hear. "I can't believe it sometimes. That I get to have that. That it won't go away tomorrow. But… it's worth it. For however long I have it, it's real, now."

"That's right, honey." Kurt nudged him. "Watch, they're starting. We can take you home and take care of you later."

"Thank you," he whispered.

Finn was standing back some distance from where Puck was suspended, facing the wall. Carl came in close enough to speak with him, gesturing at Puck's bare back as he spoke quietly. He was holding a whip of his own, this one black and braided a little differently from Finn's. When he stood back and held out the whip, Finn moved behind him, watching intently.

"We're going to begin now, Puck," Carl told him in a clear, firm voice. "You can expect very little contact at the beginning, but it'll get more intense as we go. Would you repeat these words? Yellow."

"Yellow?" Puck said.

"That's right. If you need to slow down for any reason, if it's too intense or you have a question, use that word. Repeat the word  _red."_

Puck snorted quietly. "Red. When have I ever —"

"If I need to spank you myself, I will," Carl said, still speaking calmly, and Puck subsided. "You never go into a scene without clear boundaries. You get to stop this scene at any time using that word."

Kurt thought about all the many, many times he'd refrained from setting up  _any_  kind of boundaries, both when he was in control and when he was giving it up, and he felt a flicker of shame.  _So many things we didn't know when we started. So many things we still haven't learned._  That thought was far more intimidating than Finn in a brown leather hat, holding a whip — although he had to admit, Finn did look good.

"You're going to hear a loud crack as I touch your back," Carl went on. "This shouldn't hurt."

He let the whip coil out in front of him. It wasn't nearly as long as the one he'd used at Tessera in the large open third-floor space; the cracker at the tip of this whip barely brushed the floor.  _An ordinary-sized room requires a shorter whip,_  Kurt thought.

"How can it not hurt?" Blaine whispered, watching in fascination.

"You'll see," said Kurt.

Carl brought his arm back, then in a smooth motion came forward again, almost like he was throwing a ball but cutting short his throw. The  _crack_  was shockingly loud, and Blaine flinched, but Puck just sighed and settled further into his bonds.

Blaine didn't take his eyes off them. "Have you done this?"

"No. I think it would be amazing to learn, though." Kurt paused. "Did you mean, have I  _had it done_  to me?"

"Oh, I — I can't imagine you would want that." Blaine sounded positively scandalized. Kurt smiled.

"I might. I love being restrained and flogged."

When Blaine made another whimpering noise, squirming in his lap, Kurt slid a hand up to cover his mouth.

"We should talk about this later. There are all kinds of things I love."

Blaine nodded emphatically, whether to the suggestion or the statement or to the hand over his mouth, Kurt couldn't be sure. He left it there anyway, moving his other hand to rest on Blaine's thigh.

Carl worked his way across Puck's back. Kurt couldn't tell exactly where each strike landed, but pretty soon a whole series of pink marks had appeared, criss-crossing his skin.

"Finn," Carl said, and Finn came right away to stand beside him. He uncoiled his own whip and shook it out, waiting until Carl had moved out of range, and stood very still, focusing on Puck's back. It reminded Kurt of how Finn looked on the football field, getting ready to engineer a play.

Then his own arm went through the same motion as Carl had done. It was just as fluid and graceful, and Kurt found himself watching Finn more than Puck. Blaine let out a shaky puff of breath into Kurt's palm, and Kurt quickly loosened his grip, realizing he'd unconsciously tightened it.

Finn went through the same process as Carl had, touching different points on Puck's back with the cracker of his whip, although he paused a little longer between each strike. Every few minutes he'd stop and let his arm rest, massaging it with his free hand. Carl gave him an encouraging nod.

"He's ready for more," he said.

Finn walked over to the St. Andrew's cross, running his hands over Puck's skin. It looked like nothing more than a sensual massage, but Kurt suspected he was checking that Puck was relaxed, assessing the temperature of his body, the circulation in his arms and legs — all the things Carl had taught him about being responsible for his boy. It made Kurt feel oddly proud to see him do it.

Finn spoke quietly in Puck's ear again, and when Puck responded, he turned back to Carl, nodding. His face was flushed, but he moved with confidence.

How did Finn feel, being here at Carl's office with Puck and all of them? Finn's jeans were loose enough that Kurt couldn't tell for certain how the scene was affecting him sexually, but knowing Finn, he could make a pretty good guess. Carl was keeping to himself, minimizing contact between the two of them. Kurt wondered abruptly how  _he_  felt about the whole situation.  _So many people to be concerned about,_  he thought, and sighed.

Finn stood back in the same spot he'd been in before, facing Puck again, and struck with the whip. The gesture was identical, the motion and sound the same — but this time, the result was a bright red line across Puck's left shoulder blade. Puck cried out. "Fuck —!"

"You can use  _yellow_  if it's too intense," Finn said, his voice even, and did it again. The whip cracked. Now there were two perpendicular marks, one on each side. Kurt watched the way Puck's back heaved with reaction, but he didn't make any other movements.

"Do you want to go to him?" Blaine asked anxiously.

Kurt shook his head. "I'd put myself at risk, standing in front of him. And if I were there, touching him, it would definitely become sexual. Finn's trying to break him down, not work him up."

Blaine directed his eyes at Kurt and licked his lips. "This… god, Kurt, I'm a little embarrassed to say it, but this is really hot, watching the two of them."

Kurt knew Blaine could tell, sitting on his lap like this, that Kurt agreed with him, but he nodded anyway. "It's okay to feel that way. Having you here is a big turn-on for Noah, too, especially when he knows you're being taken care of. He's watching us in that mirror by his head. See how it's tipped, so he can see Finn and us at the same time?" He brushed Blaine's ear with his lips. "What do you wish you were doing right now?"

"Kneeling in front of him," Blaine said, without hesitation, "so he could — so I could feel it, when the whip hit his skin. And he could, um." He dropped his voice to almost nothing. "Use my mouth."

Kurt had to close his eyes and hold very still for a moment, because he was certain it would be bad form to be the only one in the room having an orgasm at that moment. Even so, with Blaine's round, perfect ass pressing against his erection, it was difficult not to grind up against him. It wouldn't have taken very much effort at all to get himself there.

"I'm sure he would love that, honey," Kurt told him. "When we get home, you can tell him all about it."

Now Puck was making almost continuous noises, low moans that definitely did not sound unhappy. His back was liberally streaked with even red lines. Kurt watched a bead of blood well up from one on his ribs and trace a leisurely path along his hips toward the waist of his jeans.

"We're done," Carl said. Finn let his hand drop to his side, breathing heavily, and bowed his head. "Puck, in a moment we'll take you down, but you're going to want to stay on your front. Nod if you understand."

It took him almost five seconds to nod. Kurt helped Blaine off his lap and they stood, coming over to stand on the far side of the cross. He could see Carl and Finn conversing by the door, and Carl slipping out and closing the door behind him, but his attention was on Puck. His eyes were closed, his mouth slack as he panted.

"Sweetheart," Kurt said. Puck roused enough to let Kurt see his eyes, moving sluggishly to focus on him. "You're okay."

Puck's chuckle came from deep within him. As Kurt unchained him, he dropped his arms with a sigh. "You bet your ass I'm okay."

Blaine let out a little laugh, watching Puck with obvious love and fascination. He didn't seem to have been traumatized at all by watching Puck get whipped. When Finn dragged the round floor cushion over toward Puck, Blaine sank right down on it, then pulled Puck down on top of him. He was very careful with his hands, not touching Puck's damaged skin. Finn regarded him with astonishment. Puck was obviously flying on endorphins, but his eyes were lucid.

"Can we just stay here a while?" Blaine asked softly, cradling Puck close.

"That's what I was going to tell you." Finn nodded back at the closed door. "Carl's going to lock up. We can stay as long as we want to. Mom said she'll take care of Bethie tonight. We'll keep the heat turned up and we can… there's other rooms with beds, if we want to stay here. But if you guys need to get going, we can head back. I know you have rehearsal tomorrow."

"Can we stay?" Now Blaine was looking at Kurt. Puck was nearly comatose, resting on top of Blaine.

"Of course we can," Kurt said.  _I wouldn't deny you anything._  He could tell from Finn's expression that he felt the same way. And Puck… he shifted a little, sighing.

"You're so good to me," Puck murmured. Blaine kissed his cheek, almost absently.

"It's your birthday," he said. "I don't think you should have to do anything you don't want to do."

"I'll get another couple of those cushion things," said Finn. "There's water in that cupboard under the bench."

"You were amazing," Blaine told him before he walked away. Finn flashed him an all-too bashful smile and disappeared into the hallway. Blaine sighed and adjusted his hips underneath Puck. "Yeah. Now I get to be the only one awake and the most turned on."

"Who says you're the only one awake?" Kurt knelt on the floor beside Puck and Blaine's cushion, stroking his thigh all the way up to the point where they connected. Blaine let out a gasp, and Puck echoed it. Kurt gave up trying to pretend he wasn't turned on. They were the only ones in the building, and it was safe and warm, and he could feel the heat of Blaine's hard cock against his hand.

"Kurt," Blaine protested, but it was halfhearted at best. He let his legs fall open to Kurt's touch. Puck's own erection pulsed through his jeans against the back of Kurt's hand, and he moaned quietly, which inspired even more motion from Puck. Within moments, Puck and Blaine were grinding and thrusting against one another with increasing purpose.

"Want you," Puck said. His eyes were open now, dark and hungry as he drank in Blaine lying beneath him on the floor. Blaine nodded silently, fumbling between them to unfasten Puck's jeans.

"Let me help." Kurt unzipped him and worked the denim over his hips and off his legs, while Blaine struggled with his own pants. By the time they were both naked from the waist down, Finn had returned.

"Oh," he said, stopping short, looking a little stricken. "I — that's fine, let me just… I'll get a blanket. I was going to say,  _keep him warm,_  but this will — yeah. Hang on." He disappeared as quickly as he'd arrived.

Puck was rutting at Blaine's thigh, setting up a rhythm there, but judging by the way he was spreading himself open, Blaine was clearly wanting something else. Kurt dug through the drawer in the corner table until he found a tube of lubricant, but no condoms. He brought it over to the two of them and without hesitation knelt behind Puck, placing two wet fingers against Blaine's clenching hole. It made him cry out.

"That feel good, honey?" Kurt asked.

Kurt slid the fingers inside him, thrusting hard. Immediately Blaine's cries of surprise turned to ones of desperate need.

"Oh, my god, Kurt," he babbled, "oh, that's — yes, please, just like that —"

But Kurt withdrew the fingers right away, helping adjust Puck's cock to rest against Blaine.

"Serve your boy, Noah," Kurt commanded, swatting his bare behind with his other hand. Puck pushed forward with a grunt, and when the head of his cock penetrated Blaine's first ring of taut muscle, Kurt leaned back and let the two of them take over.

"Fuck, Kurt," said Puck. He tilted his hips, rising to his knees, and gripped Blaine's hips with both hands, thrusting into him with dizzying need. Now Blaine was making high-pitched coos and whines. Puck turned his head to look at Kurt with one stunned eye. "We've never done this bare."

"Time to start, then," said Kurt. "He's part of us. He has been from the beginning. That's an  _order,_  Noah _."_

Puck didn't make any more comments. He let loose with a delicious growl. Blaine's answering sounds were almost as appealing.

Kurt waited until both of them were fully engaged with one another before retreating to the door, opening it slowly. Finn was standing just outside holding a blanket, his ears bright red.

"They're both going to crash after they're done, I think," said Kurt, taking the blanket.

"Um… yeah." Finn flinched a little at the sounds emanating from the room. "I don't think… I'll just wait in the atrium."

Kurt knew he could have joined in if he'd wanted, or demanded attention from either or both of them, but at the moment, the most important thing was to be sure they were satisfied. The expressions on their faces told him this was exactly what they both needed. When Blaine rose up to meet Puck thrust for thrust, Kurt just smiled and let the music of their climax wash over him.

Then he opened the door again — and nearly bumped into Finn. He was hovering right outside, still blushing.

"Would you come inside now?" was all Kurt said. "I'll clean them up, but I think you'd better look at Noah's back."

Finn waited a few steps away until Puck and Blaine had uncoupled, Blaine shifting to lie on his side in Puck's arms. As Kurt had predicted, their eyes were already drooping shut. Puck didn't even move when Finn came to kneel beside him and spread salve on his cuts. He just let out a soft sigh and hugged Blaine closer.

"Watching in the mirror was awesome," he said.

"Yes, he made a beautiful picture, didn't he?" Blaine murmured. "The hat was perfect."

Finn smiled in surprise. "He's talking about me?" he whispered to Kurt.

"You really did look fantastic," said Kurt. He "We don't have to take them home, do we?"

"No, this is okay. I'd feel better staying in here with them tonight, though, if you can stand sleeping on the floor. I need to make sure Puck doesn't roll over on his back. There are blankets and cushions, enough for all of us."

It was like a weird slumber party, lying there on the floor of room six. The light tubes in the ceiling cast moonlight over all of them. They could already hear Puck making quiet snoring noises.

"You're definitely his good luck charm," Kurt said, snuggling up to Blaine on the other side. "He sleeps better with you than anyone, even Adam."

"That's wonderful." Blaine was nearly asleep himself, but he smiled at Kurt. "Thank you for taking such good care of me. That was amazing. I'll never forget it."

"I'm sure you'll see it again." He kissed Blaine's shoulder, feeling the squeeze of Finn's hand on his waist. "Wake me up if either of you need anything tonight."

They didn't, though. Even when Kurt woke up in the night to stumble out to the bathroom, Puck was still out cold. Blaine remained cradled in his arms, looking entirely at peace. Finn was asleep, too, on his own cushion, not too far away.

Kurt checked his phone before wrapping back up in his blanket. He sent a text to Adam:  _He had a memorable birthday. I'm so glad you could be a part of it._

Then, flipping back to the index of text responses, he realized Dave had sent one, too, some hours ago. It was in reply to his demand that Dave owed Blaine an apology.

 _Maybe I do,_  Dave had said,  _but why would he even want that from me?_

Kurt held the phone in his hand. He wished he could take a picture of Blaine's angelic sleeping face and send it in lieu of words, but that would be completely inappropriate. Instead, he said,  _Because for probably the first time ever, he's happy, and he wants to share that with his old friend._

Dave didn't respond, not in the middle of the night, but Kurt didn't expect him to. He set his phone down and went back to sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

_It was bad for me_  
 _Was it bad for you?_  
 _It's over, it's over_  
 _It's over, it's over, it's over  
_ _\- "Contact," from RENT_

* * *

The top of the table was hard against Toby's back, and even though it was easy to be distracted by the swing kids weaving swaths of white fabric around him, he had to pay attention lest he miss his cue.

He almost did miss it, the way the music changed, but he nodded thanks to Blaine for the tap on the foot that shook him from his reverie.  _What a crap day._

He tried to let his voice soar over the thumping of the music, but his throat had been on the edge of closing up all day, and  _this_  number on  _this_  day was about to send him over the edge. He gutted it out, somehow, and as soon as they were sent on a break he rushed through the wings, down the hall and into the men's room, willing his tears to at least stay in his eyes until he was safe, alone.

He'd expected Will to come after him, but the voice that greeted him over the rush of the cold water he was splashing on his face was deeper, richer, than Will's.

"You okay, honey?" He caught Darius' gaze in the clouded mirror and forced out a smile.

"That's my line," Toby muttered, leaning back against Darius's hand, firm but gentle in the middle of his back.

"Seriously, what's going on? You've been kinda off all day."

Toby turned, pressing his back against the sink, and let his head fall backwards so that he was staring up at the cracked paint on the ceiling. "Just one of those days, you know? When the past isn't as distant as I'd like it to be."

He brushed his hand through his hair and was startled by the sudden movement of Darius into his space. Darius' hand was gentle on his wrist, pushing his watchband up a fraction of an inch and running his thumb over the small red AIDS ribbon Toby had tattooed there.

"Who did you lose?" Darius' voice was low, his eyes brimming with understanding.

"Too many," Toby said with a whisper. "But this…" He rubbed the spot with the tip of a finger, tracing the curve of the ribbon and the date inked in, almost invisible, alongside it. "This is for my mentor, Gregg. He was the one who got me out of the shelter and into school. He was already sick then." Toby shook his head at the memory of the months following, Gregg in and out of the hospital, until finally there was nothing else but a hospice bed and a handful of visitors. "I was there, when he —"

Toby couldn't finish, didn't have the words to explain what it felt like to be sitting there, on the edge of his departure for college, just waiting. Listening to Gregg's breath rattle in his chest, feeling his hand going slack in Toby's own.

"Fourteen years," he choked out finally. "Today."

Darius' strong arms were around him then, holding him up while he cried.

"God, man, I'm sorry," Darius murmured.

"Thank you," Toby snuffled, all the tears he'd been holding in all day finally gone. "He was the first adult in my life who believed I'd ever be something, you know?" He shook his head. "And I don't like to think about where I'd be if it hadn't been for him. He was also the first person I'd ever loved who died. Thinking about him, about this, makes me feel eighteen all over again. Dammit!" He swiped at his cheeks, at the drip of tears there. "This fucking sucks."

Darius wet a paper towel in the sink and pressed it into Toby's hands. "What? The breakdown in a public bathroom, or crying like a baby?"

"Both?"

Darius laughed, and Toby couldn't help but smile.

"I think they're going on to 'Halloween' next. Do you want me get you out of the rest of rehearsal? We could go get coffee or something."

Toby shook his head. "No. I just… give me a few minutes?"

"You bet. Your man was right behind me. Want me to send him in?"

Toby shook his head again. "Ask him to wait out there for me. I'll be out once I get myself together."

"Okay." Darius clapped him on the shoulder and scooted out the door, leaving Toby alone in the silence. He dampened his hands under the coldest water he could get and patted at his face one last time with a sigh. It was just going to have to do.

* * *

Will was sitting on the floor outside the men's room when Darius slipped into the hall.

"He'll be out in a minute," he told Will, sliding down the wall to sit next to him.

Will sighed. "He doesn't — he hasn't —  _crap_. I don't know what to do when he's like that. He hardly ever loses it that way. He's just always so  _strong_." He ran a hand over his face. "Did he tell you what was wrong?"

"Gregg," Darius nodded, and watched for the seconds it took Will's face to go from blankness to firm realization.

"Oh. His, um. Mentor? Right." Will still sounded puzzled, though, like he hadn't connected all the dots. "We, uh… that was a time when we were apart. I was pretty much of an ass to Toby back then."

"You don't talk about it," Darius said knowingly. He put a hand on Will's shoulder. "You should. I think it might help you both. Especially today. He  _needs_  you today."  _Needs his fiancé, not some half-stranger he got saddled with_.

"What do I even say? How do I start?" Will sounded so lost, so young. Not like Darius was a relationship expert or anything, but these two were a  _pile_  of dysfunction. It didn't make Will any less appealing. In a way, it felt almost more tempting, to think that  _he_  could be the leader here.

"Ask him about his tattoo," Darius said.

"Toby doesn't have —  _oh_ , right." Will dropped his forehead to his knees. "I forgot. It's just sort of always been there. I asked, when he first got it, but he wouldn't talk about it so I just never asked again."

"Go," Darius nodded to the still-closed door of the men's room. "Go, now, and ask him again. And  _listen_  to what he has to tell you."

He watched Will disappear and made his own way down the hall. The best thing he could do now was to give them both some space.

* * *

That Thursday, for once, Will found himself leaving his office at McKinley before Holly did. He paused outside her classroom, watching with bemusement as she wound another long strip of masking tape around what appeared to be a Grecian column. When she saw Will, she smiled.

"Oh, hi! Will you give me a hand with this?" She beckoned him over. Will set his bag down by the door and hurried over to brace the column with both hands. "Great. Just like that. Hold it —" She sized up the wall, then ripped off another enormous strip of tape to attach it to the heating pipe in the ceiling.

"Are you sure that's safe?" Will said, frowning.

"Sure! Why wouldn't it be?" She wound a second long strip of tape to the column before pausing and surveying her work with satisfaction. "Perfect."

It did look imposing. "What exactly are you trying to convey here? I mean, what does it have to do with teaching Spanish?"

"Classical architecture shows up all over Spain, William. Shape and form and substance. I'm giving them a virtual tour using a PowerPoint from my last trip to Europe, but I find visuals really pique their interest." She seated herself in the center of her desk, swinging her legs off the edge. "They can't think all of Spanish culture comes from what we have on this side of the pond. Plus it's a good opportunity for them to use all kinds of Spanish descriptive words without resorting to porn.  _Big. Tall. Long. Formidable."_

"I can't believe Figgins is letting you get away with that," he said, grinning despite himself. She raised both brows in mock surprise.

"What? I push the envelope in every aspect of my life. This one's no different. And what about you? You've told me about your kids in Glee. You're always asking them for  _more, do it harder, give it all you got._ Not sure how that's any different either."

"Oh, my god," he muttered, laughing. It ended in a sigh. "I'm… really not sure how I should answer that."

"Mmmm. That doesn't sound good." She patted the desk next to herself. "Come on. The doctor is IN. What crawled up your ass this week?"

He sat down slowly. "I think it must be the stress of dress rehearsals. Toby's been in conflict with another one of our cast members this whole time, but it got worse this week. His tattoo… he's got history, history I can't begin to fathom, and it's weighing on him."

Holly nodded. "You asked him about it?"

"I tried? None of it's a surprise, but…" He shrugged, feeling helpless. "He's done things and been places I have no idea how to understand. What good am I to him?"

"You really think you're only good to him because you're like him? William, I think it's the other way around. Partners are unique and whole in themselves, just like you. You get to complement them, not complete them." She put a friendly hand on his shoulder. "It's not simple math. In relationships, you put one and one together, you get green. Appreciate that."

Will thought about Darius, emerging from the bathroom, telling him to  _go in, now._ "I think right now he's making some other colors. With another guy. They're not all pretty, but… maybe they're important?"

"Hey, I'd be the last one to tell him not to. But I know how he talks about you. He's not looking for one plus one with anybody else, no matter how many body parts they're rubbing together."

"I don't get that," Will admitted. "Sex without love always seemed pretty irrelevant to me."

"Well, that's only if you confine  _love_  to one definition," said Holly. "You theater folks. All that creative energy happening in one place, there's bound to be sixty-seven different definitions of love. Okay, maybe sixty-nine of them."

Will put his arms around himself, holding on tight. "I just don't know."

"Don't know what, babe? How to stop being jealous?"

"No." He furrowed his brow. "Why I'm  _not."_

"Oh, hey, that's a much better problem to have," she said, grinning. "How about this. You keep loving him, and let him know you're there to listen. You let him have whatever fun he's gonna have anyway. And you stand back and give him a little room to figure things out. I bet he'll let you know what he needs."

He looked at her doubtfully. "You're really sure that's enough?"

"I bet he'll let you know," she said again, very gently.

Will smiled. "One of my kids is in your class. Finn Hudson."

"Oh, the tall one with the bad accent!" Holly leaned back, chuckling to herself. "He's in Glee club? Never would have predicted that."

"There's a lot that's surprising about Finn," he agreed. "How's he doing? He struggled last semester."

"Well, he's never going to win awards for his pronunciation, but I'd give him an A for effort alone. He doesn't give up easily." She paused. "Like I said about you and your kids."

"I don't get it." Will slid to the floor. Standing, he was taller than she was. "You're telling me… don't give up, but  _do_  let go?"

Holly reached out and tapped him on the nose. "Bingo."

"How's that going to solve anything?"

"Who said you were trying to do that? We're not puzzles, William, we're meat computers. We're way more complex than any of us could ever figure out in one lifetime. Best way to try, without the aid of certain drugs, is to trust that somebody is spending time with you because they  _want_  to. That's all." She smiled brightly, and gave him a little shove off the desk. "All right, come on. The Doctor is OUT. And hungry. Please insert 25 cents and a cheeseburger to continue."

* * *

"Kurt." The prop director interrupted Kurt's thoughts with a hand on his shoulder. "Something arrived for you. And something for Blaine, I think. They're in the green room."

"Thanks," he said, but she was already gone.

He wasn't sure how she had time to tell him even that much, the way she and the rest of the crew had been running around like proverbial chicken this last week of rehearsals.  _Dress rehearsal_  meant a lot more in a professional theater, Kurt was coming to realize. It didn't just mean putting on costumes. It meant everybody had everything perfect, so the crew could polish their timing and make sure every piece of the puzzle came together. Those moments when it didn't happen — and they'd had a few of them, even this week — it was blatantly obvious.

"If one thing fails, we all fail," he'd told Finn earlier. "Worse than Glee or the Cheerios. It's music and choreography and props and costumes and lighting times a hundred."

And he loved it. He loved being part of that system, to have a hand in making it happen. Even better, he loved being able to look across the stage and see Blaine there with him, doing  _his_  part. He did it the way he did everything on the stage, with his whole heart and voice. It was incredible to watch the professionals, Mr. Schue and Toby and Darius and Shelby and the rest of the cast doing what they'd trained all their lives to do, but being able to share it with Blaine was almost more incredible. And now it was opening night — finally, after all their hard work for the past month and a half.

The first thing Kurt noticed on the table when he entered the green room was, of course, the largest chocolate-chip cookie he'd ever seen. Painted on it in pink icing were two overlapping male symbols and two overlapping female symbols, and the words  _Goodbye Prop 8!_ It still made him smile, even though it had already been there for a day, and had enough pieces cut out of it so that the  _8_  looked more like a zero.

"The supreme court ruling still wouldn't mean  _I_ could get married, even if I did live in California," Kurt had said to Blaine when the cookie had arrived on Thursday. "Not if I want my relationship to be the way it is."

"You could get married to one person, though," Blaine had said. "As long as there were an even number in the relationship, everybody could be married to  _somebody._  That's better than nothing, right?"

Kurt wasn't ready to say if it was or not, but it was still a landmark victory for California, and he had to be glad for that.

But now the cookie wasn't the only thing on the table. It was littered with deliveries. There were several big bouquets of flowers with cards attached for cast members, along with boxes of chocolates, cards and one big bottle of Irish cream. Kurt browsed each item, buzzing with excitement, until he found his name on the tag attached to a distinguished vase of red and white roses. The name, like the card, was typed, and it had nothing on it to indicate who had sent it. But Kurt knew.

_For Kurt — from one hopeless romantic to another. I'll see you soon._

"Oh," he said, feeling the stupid smile on his face growing. He scanned the room for anyone he might tell, and pounced on Toby, brewing a pot of coffee. "I got flowers."

"Of course you got flowers, darlin'," said Toby, smiling. "You've got more people to send you flowers than anyone I know."

He leaned up on his tiptoes to whisper in Toby's ear: "They're from  _Adam."_

"That's one bouquet, then." Toby nodded. "I bet Puck'll bring some to the performance. And maybe Finn, too?"

"He'll let my father bring them. I know he  _wants_  to. That's good enough. Oh — maybe he sent some to Blaine, though!" He returned to the table, continuing his search through the goodies. When he found the bouquet of white lilies addressed to Blaine, however, he paused.

"That the one?" Toby asked.

"It's… not from Finn." He held the card carefully, reading the words:  _I hope you'll accept my apology. Either way, I'll be there on opening night. -Dave_

"Apologies are always a good thing," Toby said, peering over Kurt's shoulder as he poured his coffee. "That an old boyfriend of his?"

"No. Not exactly. Old friend." Kurt thought about setting the flowers down, but instead he tucked them into his arm. "A friend of mine, too."

"All the better. You should invite him to the cast party on Sunday."

Kurt blanched at that thought. "I think probably not. Would you excuse me for a minute?"

He found Blaine seated outside the west stage door, huddled over his phone. Blaine smiled when he saw him, though, and didn't seem to mind being interrupted. "Hey."

"Which of them is it?" Kurt asked, indicating the phone. Blaine blushed, which told Kurt something about what kind of conversation they'd probably been having.

"Puck," he said. "He has, um, plans for me tonight. After the show."

"No doubt." Kurt held out the flowers. "These came for you. I'm not sure if they'll be welcome or not, but I want you to know I think his intentions are good. I hope you accept his apology."

Blaine read over the card, his smile dimming, but not entirely disappearing. "Kurt."

Kurt crouched down beside him, putting a hand on his knee. "I know you've known him a long time. So has Finn. So far, he seems to think Dave is being sincere. I told you what he did for my birthday, right?"

"Yes." Blaine shook his head at Kurt. "But you're  _you._  Of course he wants to impress you."

"I'm glad to be his friend, but I don't think he's forgotten about you."

He sighed. "Dave's really good at the subtle. But he wasn't at  _all_  subtle the last time I saw him in the park. It made me worry about him." He concentrated on his hands, avoiding Kurt's eyes. "He — he tried to kiss me."

"Oh." Kurt sat back, watching him in surprise. "I didn't realize he had  _those_  kind of feelings for you."

"Yeah, I didn't either, until that moment. I felt like an idiot for not realizing. And I told him I couldn't, because I was with Finn. Even though I'm not, not  _that_ way." He looked up at Kurt in appeal. "But that was before I met you, and before I found Puck again. What am I supposed to tell him now?"

"Well," said Kurt slowly, "how do you feel? I mean, did you tell him no because you didn't want to kiss him, or because you didn't think you should?"

Blaine shook his head. "I don't think it's that simple, Kurt. The person Dave became… I don't like him very much. But I think, more than that, the boys I liked and tried to kiss, before Puck? It wasn't enough that they were cute, or nice, or whatever. They didn't want… what  _I_ want. Ordinary things, kissing and hugging and dancing… that's not enough for me."

"No, I know." Kurt took his hand. "I know what you want. I understand."

"I know you do," Blaine said softly. He was smiling at Kurt. "You're so good to me. You're good  _for_  me."

Blaine looked so grateful for this that Kurt couldn't help kiss him, right there in the hallway. Blaine let out a squeak, and relaxed into it with a sigh.

"You don't think I'm being too selfish?" Blaine asked him.

"Selfish? Because you know what you want? No." He touched the bouquet. "But that doesn't mean you can't accept his flowers, or be his friend. It looks like that's what he wants. Maybe you could give him a chance at that?"

Blaine nodded. "Would you tell him I say… thank you? And that I'd like to see him at our performance?"

"You can tell him that yourself tonight," Kurt promised.

* * *

_She was more than okay_  
 _But I pushed her away_  
 _It was bad - I got mad_  
 _And I had to get her out of my sight  
_ _\- Roger in "Christmas Bells" from RENT_

* * *

There was something magical about the way everything had finally,  _finally_  come together, after all the time they'd spent choreographing and rehearsing and screwing up. The moment the house lights went down on opening night, everyone seemed to be on high gear. Kurt saw it on each person's face, from the primary cast to the prop crew. All the anxiety and snarky back-and-forth joking was gone. They were  _on_.

Kurt rode the wave through the entire first act. When they hit the intermission, however, he flew through the wings toward the green room — and found Blaine pacing the hallway, breathing hard.

"He's there. I saw him."

Kurt reached out and gathered Blaine into his body, trying to press some of the tension out with one hand on his neck. "Who is?"

"My dad. He's in the third row, with Steven. He didn't tell me he was coming at all. God, Kurt, I —" Blaine looked apologetically at him. "I can't. I can't do this."

"What do you mean? Of course you can."

"You don't understand," he said, the panic rising in his voice. "My father doesn't come to performances, not ever. He's not going to understand what I'm doing up here. Oh my god, Kurt, what about the Contact scene? I have to kiss three different people…"

"Blaine," he said, then stopped and took a calming breath, which Blaine automatically matched. "Do you want me to get Finn?"

Blaine opened his mouth to answer. Then he closed it again. He put his arms around Kurt and held onto him tight.

"No," he whispered. "I have you. That's what I need."

It took all the words out of Kurt. He just stood there in Blaine's arms, thrumming with surprise and feeling his heart pounding in his throat.

"Honey," he said.

Blaine stood back a little, his eyes wet and fierce, still holding on. "This has been _our_  show. You and me, Kurt. I don't know if you realize what that has meant to me, to have this with you. I'm just — I'm scared that when it's over, my dad's going to come in and take everything we have away."

"I won't let him do that." Kurt kept his voice firm, even though the idea made his gut wobble and clench.

Blaine smiled. "I wouldn't put it past you to try. But my dad's accustomed to getting what he wants. And he wants me to focus on school — not boys. Definitely not three of them at once." His voice changed, going deeper and disturbingly commanding. " _You're at Dalton to achieve your goals and to make your family proud."_

"It's not going to be like that, Blaine. After that first act, there's no way he can be anything  _but_  proud of you. Besides, you've got all of us here to buffer anything he might want to say. Toby and Mr. Schue and Darius and Shelby… even Clayton. They're all on your side."

Listening to Kurt talking seemed to be calming him. He nodded slowly, taking another long breath. "Okay… okay. I think I can go on."

"Of course you can." Kurt kissed him once, then again, more forcefully. Blaine made a noise of protest, but he didn't pull away. Kurt stayed close, looking into his eyes. "Do you want me to stay with you until the second act begins?"

"Please." Blaine left his hand in Kurt's, separating enough to walk into the green room with him and take a drink. He looked gratefully at Kurt, dropped his voice to almost nothing, and bowed his head. "Thank you."

Kurt heard the implied  _sir,_  even if Blaine had never said it to him aloud. When he smiled, Blaine smiled back with his head up and his back straight once more.

* * *

_When I looked into your eyes_  
 _Why does distance make us wise?_  
 _You were the song all along_  
 _And before the song dies_  
 _I should tell you, I should tell you_  
 _I have always loved you_  
 _You can see it in my eyes  
_ _\- "Your Eyes," from RENT_

* * *

Finn left Puck, Sarah, Burt and his mom at intermission for a bathroom break. The line for the women's room stretched out into the hall, but the men's line was short enough that he walked right in — and almost ran into Dave Karofsky on his way out.

Dave's face went swiftly from startled, to sneering, to warily pleased in the space of five seconds. Finn glanced behind him, but they were the only ones in the bathroom.

"Hey, I didn't know you were back in town," said Finn. "How was space camp?"

"Parts of it sucked. Parts of it were awesome." Dave shuffled in place, looking at the floor. "It's weird to be back in Lima."

"A lot of masks to put on," Finn agreed.

Dave half-shrugged, but then he nodded. Finn raised an eyebrow.

"You want to, like, mess me up a little before I go back out there? Should I —"

"No," Dave said angrily. He sighed, flexing his hands. "No. I really don't."

Finn nodded too. "You're here to see Blaine." He watched Dave's face go still. "Kurt told me about the flowers."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course he did. I'm never going to be able to do anything again without one of you knowing about it."

"Blaine's really important to all of us," said Finn. "We get it. Kurt's been freaking out about it all summer, how this is going to be for you. He wants to be friends."

"Yeah, well,  _friends_  just fuck you over," Dave said in a tight voice. Finn tried not to let the words get to him, but he could feel himself bristling.

"You really think that's what he's doing?"

Dave looked like he was about to reply, but then a man and his son came into the bathroom, and Dave turned toward the sink, washing his hands all over again. Finn nudged him with his shoulder.

"Come backstage after. He's going to want to see you. So's Kurt." He looked at Dave hard. "You've got to trust somebody, man."

Finn didn't wait around for Dave's answer. He proceeded to ignore Dave as he moved in close to a urinal along the wall, unzipping his pants. In fact, he was ignoring so hard that when he heard Carl's quiet voice beside him, he actually jumped.

"Kurt and Blaine, they're wonderful."

Finn felt his cheeks grow suddenly hot. He fought back a smile.

"Dude," he muttered, "at the urinal? Really?"

Carl was definitely smirking, but he didn't say anything else to Finn until they were both done and standing in front of the mirror, washing their hands. Finn eyed his suit, his new haircut, knowing he was being obvious, but hardly able to disguise his appreciation. Carl looked  _great._

"Yeah, they really are wonderful," Finn said at last. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for inviting me. It was only fair that I did, considering Kurt came to  _Les Mis."_

"Aw, he just wanted to hear Mr. Schue say _hooray_." They were both grinning now. "But I guess he said you were pretty great as Enjolras, too."

Carl shook the water from his hands. He took a paper towel and dried them thoughtfully. "So… I must say I was impressed with Blaine the other night. He's grown a lot. His trust in you, in Kurt… it's obvious."

Finn glanced around, but no one was paying attention to their conversation. "Yeah, it's been a good summer. For all of us."

"I'm pleased to hear that. Keep up your practice." He intensified his gaze. "On the pumpkins, you understand? You're not ready to fly solo yet, not for a while."

"No." Finn pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and willed the  _sir_  not to escape his lips.

Carl gave him a nod. "Okay." More quietly, he added, "You did very well, though. You'll call me, when you're ready?"

What he might be ready for, they weren't going to discuss in a public bathroom, not even in Cleveland. Finn nodded back. "Thanks for that. For, uh. For Puck. It was a good present."

"I'm glad. Well, Emma's going to wonder where I disappeared to." The lights blinked once. Carl deposited the paper towel in the trash can and waved, friendly and calm as anything. "Take care, Finn."

He stood there for a few minutes after Carl walked out, assessing himself the way he would have for Puck or Blaine, checking his own vitals.  _Pulse elevated, skin warm and dry, circulation good. No sign of shock._ He took an experimental breath in, then let it out. He felt… okay.

The lights blinked twice as he made his way back to his seat, and went down entirely just as he sat down next to Puck.

"She doing all right?" he asked, nodding to Beth, sleeping in his arms.

"Went right out as soon as Toby started drumming," Puck said, and grinned. "Of course, all bets are off now, because Shelby's in act two. If Beth wakes up and hears her mama, I might have to take her out. But that's cool; it's not like I haven't seen them do this show a million times."

Finn had seen it a million times, too, but only on Kurt's DVD. He hadn't ever seen his own boys performing it on stage, along with his choir director and  _his_  boyfriend and Shelby — whatever she was — putting it all together. It was better than the DVD. Mr. Schue and the girl playing Mimi sang the song that he and Kurt sometimes sang together, the one about "I should tell you," and it was so awesome Finn wasn't sure he ever wanted to sing it again.

He also knew Angel was going to die in the second act. He knew it, and he also knew it wasn't  _actually_  Toby up there, or  _actually_  that nice African-American guy who hung out with Mr. Schue a lot, crying over him. But it sure felt like something  _real_  was going on.

His mom turned to him at one point and put a hand on his wrist, looking concerned. "You okay?" she whispered.

Finn blew his nose into his handkerchief and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt. He'd been fine when he'd left the men's room, and now he was falling apart over a stupid musical. He just nodded.

Beth stayed asleep until Maureen and Joanne started yelling at one another, at which point she woke up crying. Puck made a quick exit before anybody could give them dirty looks, and he didn't come back for the rest of the show. Finn sent him a text once the lights came up and the audience was clapping:  _You guys okay?_

_Changing B.,_  he sent back.  _Meet u outside after._

There were a lot of people waiting to talk to the actors as they exited the theater into the parking lot. They came out one at a time through the stage door, still wearing their makeup but dressed in ordinary clothes. Finn and his mom hung back a little, waiting with Burt for the crowd to clear. He caught sight of Dave standing right on the edge of the alley.

"Isn't that David Karofsky?" Burt asked Finn, frowning.

"He's fine," Finn told him. "He's not doing any of that stuff he was doing to Kurt anymore."

"He'd better not be. I know Kurt can take care of himself, but I want you to keep an eye on him."

"I am," he promised. "If I hear anything, I'll be sure to let you know."

Finn wasn't sure that Dave wanted to be noticed, but he caught his eye and nodded at him anyway. Dave looked as nervous as Finn had ever seen him, swaying from foot to foot, his hands in the pockets of his varsity jacket as he watched the stage door.

Puck emerged from inside, holding Beth in her carrier and the diaper bag. Finn knew by now exactly how much  _stuff_  babies required. He wanted to help, at least to carry some of it for Puck — just like he'd wanted to offer to hold Beth during the performance — but he already knew what Puck's answer was going to be:  _It's easier if I do it._

Puck went over to stand beside Burt. Even that little gesture of alliance got to Finn tonight. Puck should have been next to  _him._ He didn't glare at Puck, because it wasn't his fault, and he didn't glare at Dave, because he wasn't doing anything wrong. Nothing was actually wrong at all, except — except —

"There he is," Burt said, smiling. He held up a hand to wave and nudged forward as Kurt emerged, along with Blaine. They were both smiling. The eyeliner from their stage makeup was almost ordinary by comparison to what Adam wore every day, but he wasn't used to seeing it on either of them, and it hit him like a blow to the chest.  _Blaine. Kurt._

Finn bit back the words almost too late, because Dave had taken one little step forward. He hesitated before taking another one, but he did, and then another, pausing behind a girl holding a program and a marker.

"Go on," Finn whispered.

"Can I have your autograph?" the girl was saying excitedly to Kurt.

Kurt smiled at her, taking the pen. "Sure." He signed his name in the cast roster, then handed it to Blaine, who scribbled his own before giving it back to her. "Did you like the — Dave!"

Finn had to attribute the startled word to Kurt's post-show high, because Kurt was almost always the cautious one. As it was, Blaine's eyes snapped up at the sound of the name. He saw Dave standing there, his hands outstretched like he was trying to balance on something high without falling.

"Dave," Blaine echoed, a little more quietly. Dave slowly lowered his hands.

"I'm so glad you came," said Kurt. He reached back and tugged Blaine's hand, bringing him forward. "And so's Blaine. Aren't you?"

"I — yes. Yes, I — I am." Blaine was struggling to get any words out, but then he smiled at Dave. "I really am."

Dave's wariness gave way to his own smile. It was  _nice_ , Finn thought. Sweet. Nothing like the face he put on at school. It wasn't even like the face his friend, Davey, had worn in second grade. Finn wondered if it might be the one  _Blaine_  had grown up with, when they'd hung out at the library.

"Kurt said I should come. I thought… maybe I should, after all." He didn't look hopeful about this, more resigned, but when Blaine nodded enthusiastically, he relaxed somewhat.

"I got your flowers," said Blaine. "Thank you. They were really nice." He stepped in closer, and Dave matched his steps until they were just inches away from one another. "My father's here with his boyfriend. He didn't tell me he was coming, but I saw him."

"Oh, shit." Dave's eyes were wide. "And you went on with the show anyway? I think I would have bailed."

"Kurt talked me into it." Blaine glanced at Kurt, then back at Dave. Finn could tell it wasn't going to matter if Dave was feeling hopeful or not, because Blaine clearly was doing all the hoping for both of them.

He smiled. It was just to himself, but his mom noticed and put a hand on his back.

"Do you want to give Kurt these?" she asked, holding up the bouquet of white roses. Finn shook his head.

"You do it," he said.

It was partly the way Kurt was looking at Blaine that made him decline, and partly the fact that Carl and Ms. Pillsbury were standing right there on the sidewalk, waiting to congratulate Kurt and Blaine too. Finn didn't feel like he could play a very convincing brother-with-flowers, not when he just wanted to kiss Kurt all over and tell him how proud he was. And Blaine — well, Blaine was on his way to spend the night at Toby's, with Puck. He knew Puck had plans for him.

There was a shout of laughter by the stage door as Toby emerged, walking with Darius, and the crowd erupted into spontaneous applause as he thrust their joined hands over his head. "Angel, risen again," he called, and the laughter grew.

Shelby was behind him, walking with Mr. Schue, but she didn't stop to sign autographs. She went right to Puck. He held up Beth's carrier for her to grab.

"You guys were fucking awesome," he said, kissing Shelby's cheek. She shook her head at him.

"We're going to have to work on your language, Noah, before she gets old enough to know what you're saying."

"By then, she'll be smart enough not to say it unless she can get away with it." He handed over the diaper bag. "I'll be here tomorrow to take her while you rehearse, and you can do this all over again next weekend."

"And then it'll be over, and you're taking a couple days off," she said. "I remember. And then… we'll talk."

Finn could have been distracted by Shelby's mention of Puck's days off, because they were going to be with  _him._ He and Puck had decided they would use their time off to go someplace involving hiking and being outside and actual nature and stuff before summer was over.  _I can deal with being away from Beth for four days,_  Puck had said when Finn had brought it up. He could easily have added,  _if you can deal with being away from Blaine for four days,_  but he hadn't.

But Finn wasn't distracted. He wasn't going to give Blaine flowers, either, but he sure as hell wasn't going to let him get away without telling him  _something._  He moved forward until he was facing Kurt and Blaine.

"That was great," said Finn quietly, including both of them. "I mean it. You sounded amazing."

Blaine beamed up at him, reaching automatically for Kurt's hand beside him. Kurt kept his own expression neutral, but he nodded thanks.

"Seems like everybody's here tonight," Kurt said, his voice appropriately sardonic for a brotherly conversation, but his eyes sparkled at Finn.

"It's opening night," drawled Puck, moving in beside them. It was just him now, no baby, no diaper bag — not that he would have looked any less appealing to Blaine with those things in tow. He reached out his hand to Blaine, and Blaine took it, letting go of Kurt's. "You ready to go, babe?"

"All set," said Blaine, somewhat breathless. He smiled at Dave one more time. "Thank you, again." Then he and Puck hurried away toward the Impala. Dave and Kurt both watched them go, Dave crestfallen, Kurt calm.

"Hey, Dave," said Finn. Dave looked up, immediately on the defensive. Finn kept his demeanor mild. "We're going to head home. You want to come over so Kurt can tell us about all the parts we missed?"

"Missed?" asked Dave blankly.

"Yeah. There's always layers in theater. Like in lit class. Reading below the surface, you know?"

Dave's eyebrows were high on his forehead. "You want me to drive an hour and a half and then  _volunteer_  to listen to Kurt Hummel talk about theater?"

Finn grinned. "Uh… yes?"

Dave shot one more look at the parking lot into which Blaine and Puck had disappeared. Then he turned to Kurt, who looked somewhat surprised, himself, to be offered up in this way, and shrugged. "Why not?"

* * *

_There is no future_  
 _There is no past_  
 _Thank God this_  
 _Moment's not the last_   


_There's only us_  
 _There's only this_  
 _Forget regret or_  
 _Life is yours to miss_  
 _No other road, no other way  
_ _No day but today_

_I can't control (Will I lose my dignity)_  
 _My destiny (Will someone care)_  
 _I trust my soul (Will I wake tomorrow)  
_ _My only goal (From this nightmare)_

_There's only now_  
 _There's only here_  
 _Give in to love_  
 _Or live in fear_  
 _No other path, no other way_  
 _'Cause I die without you  
_ _No day but today_

_\- "Finale B," from RENT_


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter is Will and Toby and Darius, dealing with their shit. If you don't care at all about them, you can skip it and you won't miss much about the boys. There's a lot of poly drama here, which is so satisfying for me to write, but I kind of figure nobody wants to read about Will! Anyway, you can leave a comment if you want more. I'll write it just for you. 
> 
> -amy

 

Sunday's cast party was definitely the biggest event Toby had thrown since moving to Ohio. That, coupled with the built-up energy of their first weekend of shows, and the strange weather, warm and gusty, made for an explosive mix. In the course of the evening, he personally diverted two mildly unsafe behaviors and one use of illegal drugs — and that was just among the adults.

"Storm is brewing," Shelby said, taking a beer from the cooler. She was watching Puck and Blaine snuggling on the couch with Beth.

"Not with them, thank god," said Toby. "Looks like the three of them might be settling down."

Shelby turned her gaze on him. "Wish I could say the same for you and  _your_  man. Or should I say  _men?"_

"Darius and Will are gettin' along fine." He settled down on a stool, nodding at the two of them sitting across from one another, dealing another hand of poker.

"I was noticing that too." She sounded amused, but her expression was more speculative than playful. "And what's your take on it?"

"I'm not sure there's anything to consider," he said. She nudged him, none too gently.

"Sure. Just like Will was sure there was nothing  _happening_  between you and Darius, back in July."

He gave her a dangerous smile. "Not really your business, is it?"

"Only from the point of view of a fellow cast member and friend, wanting to keep things cordial. I think you've both gone well beyond cordial, though." She nodded graciously. "In a week, it'll be one hundred percent none of my concern. And I'll butt out — if you don't want to talk about it. Do you?"

"Do I want to talk about Will and Darius?" he murmured. "I think if I'm talking about it to anybody, it should be them."

"Of course." Shelby leaned in, making her voice intimate. "But if there was ever a time to consider making a move, I'm thinking this might be it."

_A move._  Toby felt the familiar tremble in his gut at the prospect. He stretched out his legs and sighed. "Yeah, if you recall, the last move I made was a total disaster. Remember Jon?"

"If this was anything like that, I'd be warning you off with sarcasm and disdain, Toby. I think Will is actually starting to  _like_  Darius." She grinned. "On top of the generous helping of attraction they've got going on, that is."

"It's right surprising, is what it is." He watched Darius smile as Will leaned over to pick up his hole cards, and shook his head as he realized he was staring. "Like you said, in a week, it won't matter anymore anyway. We'll be striking the set, and Mr. Mitchell will be movin' on to his next gig, wherever that is."

She shrugged. "Shame to let the chemistry go to waste, I say. But it's your call."

Toby took another long drink from his beer and wiped the rim of the bottle on his t-shirt. Will reached down to rub Annie between the ears and laughed at something Darius was saying. Shelby wasn't wrong about the chemistry. Now that the animosity was gone between the three of them, what remained was —

Darius turned his head abruptly, meeting Toby's eyes over the back of the couch. He couldn't even pretend he hadn't been watching. Toby sucked in a breath. When Darius nodded steadily at him, he nodded back. He couldn't help but wonder what he'd just agreed to.

* * *

Will smiled up at Shelby as she brought Beth over to sit on the edge of the couch, folding his cards into his hand. He scooted over toward Darius to make room for her, but she waved him casually away.

"Did you read the review of opening night in the  _News-Herald?"_  he asked. "Not that Clayton ever gets bad reviews, but he had some nice things to say about your performance of Over the Moon."

"I try to avoid reading reviews until the show is over. Wouldn't want to skew my performance just to please some critic." She snuggled Beth closer as she yawned, her eyes closing. "We're going to head home. The weather's turning pretty bad out there."

"We'll see you for rehearsal on Thursday, then. Enjoy the days off until then."

Darius got to his feet. "I'm going to get another beer. You want anything, hon?"

"I'm all set," said Will. He kept his eyes off Darius' strong legs as he walked away. When he turned back to Shelby, she was smirking.

"You're making Toby a little nuts over there."

"Because I'm playing poker?" he said.

She snorted. "Some poker face you have. Don't tell me you haven't noticed the difference in Angel and Collins' scenes in the last couple weeks."

"They got over themselves. I'd say this was a good thing, wouldn't you?"

"Whatever they did, it worked. Now Toby can't keep his eyes off the two of you together."

_The two of us together._  Will really didn't need that image. He made himself focus on Annie, sitting happily at his feet. Her tail thumped on the wooden floor as he scratched her neck. "We're not doing anything."

"I think that's irrelevant," she said. "It's pretty clear that you could be. If you wanted to."

He laughed. "Shelby,  _why_  are you trying to set me up with Darius?"

She tilted her head with a little teasing smile. "I don't know. I'm getting a kick out of how much you're into one another. And I'm living vicariously through you. And your fiancé would be into it."

"I like Darius," he said patiently. "I don't need to… to do anything else with him."

"Of course you don't need to." Shelby took a step away. "Who said this was about need? Take a chance, Will. Live a little."

It wasn't Shelby's words that stuck with him after she'd gone. It was his own, snapping  _fight or fuck_  to Toby and Darius in the dressing room. He was pretty sure they hadn't done either one — and yet they'd solved the conflict between the two of them. What  _had_  they done?

Will scanned the length of the long room, standing up to peer around the fireplace, but the dining room was empty. So was the porch. He left his half-full beer on the coffee table and came far enough around the corner to look into the kitchen.

Toby and Darius were standing, not touching, but speaking in quiet voices. They weren't smiling, but their faces bespoke the kind of conversation he didn't want to interrupt. When Toby rested a gentle hand on Darius' shoulder, Will swallowed hard.

It was obvious for anyone to see. Will had been seeing it all week on the stage — and, judging by the  _News-Herald's_  opinion about their production's Angel and Collins, so had everyone in the audience.  _So much for acting._ This wasn't fight or fuck. This was  _feelings._

Will went back to the couch and scratched Annie's belly while he waited for Darius to return. He didn't seem to be upset, and his smile was as easy and intimate as ever.

_So you and Toby,_  he wanted to say, but he wasn't quite sure how to begin. Instead, he smiled back, and gestured to the cards on the coffee table. "Another hand?"

* * *

Toby stayed in the kitchen to do some dishes, but as the last few guests began to move inside, he became aware of the wind and the pressure changes outside.

"Just put 'em on the counter," he said to Shelby as she brought in a load of empty bottles from the back porch. She buckled Beth into her car seat.

"There's practically nobody left, just Darius and Will playing poker in your living room. The boys went to bed already."

Toby hadn't been exactly clear about the distribution of the four boys into their usual two bedrooms, but he was sure there wasn't a lot of sleeping happening. "I'm going to clear everybody out, then head to bed myself."

She hugged him. "Let it happen," she reminded him in his ear.

"I'll do my best," he said. "Right now I think the two of you had better get home before the rain comes."

It was definitely coming. From the deck behind the kitchen, he squinted at the way the clouds were moving over the moon, and felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the weather.

* * *

"Will — hey, set that bottle down, darlin'," Toby called from the kitchen. "We have to get all the windows shut before the storm hits. Come  _on."_

It wasn't the best timing, Will thought, as they scrambled to get to all the rooms of Toby's enormous house. He wasn't even sure he'd  _been_  in all the rooms before. Certainly not the bathroom on the third floor, or the second floor storeroom - and why would there be a window in there, anyway? - but luckily, the few remaining guests were willing to pitch in and give them a hand.

"I'm running out to the carriage house," Darius called. Toby nodded at him before securely latching the last window in the kitchen.

"Do we need to do anything about the boat?" Will asked, and Toby's eyes got big.

They ran down to the dock together just as it started to pour in earnest. Toby waded into the lake with his sneakers on and slogged through the mucky bottom to heave the front of the rowboat onto the shore, while Will carried the back as best as he could. It was already muddy, though, and they both fell more than once, making a sorry mess of their shorts and shoes.

"I think all of them are - holy shit, you guys are filthy." Darius held open the door and stepped gingerly aside as they dripped and shivered on the stone floor of the entryway. He looked them up and down. "Can I get you towels?"

"They'd just end up filthy, too," Toby sighed, and began to strip off his clothes. Will felt his cheeks turn scarlet, but Darius simply turned aside.

"How about I make you guys some tea?" he suggested, wandering back into the kitchen.

Toby bid farewell to the last departing guests, completely unselfconscious in his half-dressed state. If Will didn't know him any better, he'd have guessed it was because of the theater, but Toby had always been that way - at home in his body, even before he was a dancer.

_Wish I could have learned that somewhere along the way,_  he thought, sliding his mud-soaked shorts to the floor with distaste.

"Just throw 'em outside on the porch, darlin'," Toby suggested, opening the door and tossing the last of his clothes onto the stone steps. "We can do laundry in the morning. I'm headin' up to take a shower. You coming?"

"You go get started, I'll be right there," Will said, still unsure about whether to just go ahead and lose the rest of his mud-caked clothes, or risk Toby's wrath if he dripped through the house and up the stairs. Darius was still puttering in the kitchen; Will knew he could strip and get upstairs without being seen.

But Darius  _was_  in the kitchen. Shelby's words to him echoed in his head.  _Take a chance, Will_.

"Darius?" He called into the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

"Any way you can grab me a towel? Toby'll slay me if I track mud into the rest of the house."

Darius's face peeked around the corner of the door to the kitchen. "You know, that doesn't sound anything like Toby," he said, but the towel came arcing through the air toward him. Will snagged it before it could hit the floor.

"Thanks," he muttered, wiping his face before he attacked his muddy feet. Darius was right, but he wasn't going to admit it. That would make the whole thing sound far too much like a rationalization, and he wasn't going to think about that.

"You told me you weren't a dancer," he heard Darius say. "But those abs and quads don't lie. Tell me you don't work out."

"I didn't know you were looking," Will heard himself say. This time when Darius' eyes peered around the corner, they lingered.

"Oh, yes," he said, smiling. "Definitely looking."

Will turned away, avoiding Darius' gaze.  _Not_  to give him a better view of his ass.  _Not at all._

"I'm not a dancer like Toby," he explained, "but I've taken a class here and there."

"Yeah, well, if that's all you do, you've got some damn fine natural equipment, Schuester." He raised his hands, laden with the tea tray, to highlight his own defined stomach. "I have to work and work on my body to get it to look this good."

Will had nothing useful to respond to that statement, but he nodded, figuring that was safe enough. It didn't mean he was looking at Darius' body - even though he had, of course. It would have been impossible to get through the entire show without noticing how fit he was. He turned away, wiping his damp feet and legs with the towel.

"You sounded really good tonight, Will," Darius said, more softly, but Will could hear him just fine, because he was standing  _right_  behind him, close enough for his chest to brush against Will's bare back.

Will gasped, mostly from the realization that the tea tray was on the dining room table. That meant Darius's hands were free.

"Th-thanks," he said, turning his head just far enough to make eye contact. For a minute he imagined Darius' hands, reaching around, caressing his chest, brushing his nipples and down his stomach to his - but then Darius was moving away, leaving him twitching and considering what it would be like to turn around  _right now._

"I'm gonna take the tea on up," Darius smiled, picking up the tray again and brushing past Will to the stairs. Will pretended that he didn't notice the little wink Darius gave him from the bottom step. And he certainly wasn't looking too hard at Darius' admittedly nice-looking ass. Nope.  _Not looking_.

Oh, who the hell was he  _kidding_?

* * *

_Who knows where_  
 _Who goes there_  
 _Who knows_  
 _Here goes  
_ _\- "I Should Tell You" from RENT_

* * *

Darius hadn't spent much time on the second floor of Toby's house, so he just followed the sound of running water down the hall into the softly-lit inside of Toby's bedroom where he set the tea tray down on the dresser. Then he poked his head into the bathroom.

"Tea's out in the bedroom," he said softly, and he heard a thunk and then Toby was cursing a blue streak.

"Dropped the soap?" he asked, and Toby's teasing voice drifted out to him.

"Why don't you come on in and pick it up for me, darlin'."

"Um." Darius balked, because they'd damn well been dancing around this for weeks. "I think your Will might object to that. And to you callin' me darlin'."

"Darius? Shit. I thought you were Will." Toby peeked out from behind the shower curtain, shampoo in his hair, sounding sheepish. "Sorry."

"No worries." Darius waved off the apology, and backed a step away.

"You forget," Toby said, ducking back into the shower, "he's the one who urged us to fight or fuck, and we never did either of those things. Maybe we should celebrate closing night, huh?"

There was a movement behind him, and when Darius turned, Will was standing there, something both sad and determined in his eyes.

"You can," he whispered. "I mean, I won't stop you, if you want to." He gestured at the shower. It didn't look like defeat. "And, Jesus. It's Toby. Who wouldn't  _want to."_

Darius shrugged, but stripped his shirt off anyway and dropped it on the floor next to him. It would have been so easy to just walk back into the bathroom, lose the rest of his clothes, and join Toby under the hot water that was steaming up the bathroom. But he couldn't walk away from Will, not like that. He crossed the small space between them, splayed his hand over the back of Will's head, and kissed him.

Will squeaked a little, but he didn't struggle, and Darius thought that he almost felt Will relax in the instant before he pulled away.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it," Darius said, low and intimate. "Watching him and me." He trailed a finger down Will's jaw, and watched him close his eyes and shudder. "Or maybe you've been thinking about the two of us." He took his hand and placed it firmly in the middle of Will's chest. "Maybe... maybe you've been thinking about the three of us? In this bed." He cocked his head towards Toby's queen-sized mattress. "Or in there, under the water." He nodded to the bathroom.

"I - I'm not - " Will bit his lip, eyes fixed on the bathroom door. His pupils were huge, and there was no denying the response his body was giving, but Will didn't even seem aware of it. He shook his head. "I think if you're looking for something casual, you're going to get it from Toby, not from me. I don't do... stuff like that."

Darius shrugged. "Me neither, not really. Well, once." He smiled at the memory, the two guys in Austin when he'd been on tour. But that had been so much less than this, nothing but a casual pick-up in a gay bar. No strings. No friendship. No  _feelings_. "Don't tell me you don't feel the tension, though."

Will trembled, glancing down at Darius' hand on his chest. "I feel it," he whispered. "That's the hardest part. I'm not - for years, the only man I wanted was Toby. I was convinced I was straight. He was the only exception." He looked again at the bathroom, the door slightly ajar, steam wafting out from inside. "Then we spent three years apart, after I got married, and... there were other men, but none of them made me feel like Toby did. Does. I'm not used to... this."

"Wanting someone else, you mean." He could feel Will, hovering on the edge of acceptance. He didn't want to push him, but at the same time, he really, really did. It was precarious, and so breathtakingly, mind-numbingly  _hot._

Will shook his head. "Wanting two people at the same time," he finally admitted with a shaky breath. "I'm not used to wanting that. Not apart, but especially not  _together_."

"Those young boys giving you ideas?" His chuckle was low, and he saw Will respond to the sound of his voice. "Yeah, you're not the only one. It sounds like a pretty good idea at five in the morning when I'm waking up from the hottest dream I've had in months, starring the two of you."

Will started visibly. "You're serious."

"I'm always serious about  _sex,_  Will." He put a flat, warm hand on Will's stomach, and waited for him to exhale before moving it lower. "Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me right now, and I won't do anything else."

He could feel Will tense, could almost hear the argument in his head. The doubt, the fear. But he didn't say a word, so Darius brushed his hand over the head of Will's cock, and Will's groan and thrust was all the answer he needed.

"Oh... darlin'." Toby's voice in the doorway was breathy and surprised, but he didn't sound upset. Darius counted that in the positive column, and he shot him an anticipatory smile. Toby had one hand on the towel around his waist.

"Somebody's overdressed," Toby said to Darius, approaching the two of them. "And I think it's you."

Will was watching Darius with a curious mixture of fear and desire, and it gave Darius a sudden echoing pang of concern. He'd known Will was inexperienced, and now... now he was actually feeling worried about him. No, about  _them._

"You know, maybe this is a little much," he heard himself saying. "I don't want to cause any problems here. You're nice guys, and - well." He took Toby's hand. "I guess I don't have many friends."

Toby squeezed his hand. "Just take it easy. Why don't you go on, get yourself in the shower? Give Will and me a minute?"

"Yeah, okay." Part of Darius wanted to put this behind him, wanted to forget he'd even attempted being so forward, but Toby's hand was gentle at the small of his back.

"Go ahead," Toby said, low, into his ear. "It's goin' to be fine."

Darius quickly shed his shorts, stepped over his discarded clothes and into the still-warm bathroom, and turned the water as hot as he could stand it. He stood under the spray for a handful of long breaths, trying to let it pound some sense into him. What the hell was he thinking, getting in the middle of these two? No matter how hot they were.

But his thoughts were interrupted - by Will, tentative and apologetic, stepping into the shower behind him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to panic," Will offered. "Toby thought, maybe, that you and I should have a little time. Get comfortable with each other before we... do anything rash."

Darius shifted a little so Will could have some of the spray, struggling gamely to keep up with the changing situation. "He's a smart one, your Toby."

Will shook his head. "He's been his  _own_  Toby most of our lives. He's only been  _mine_  for the last nine months - and even then, we took a break in the middle of it. I don't know if he's ready for it." His sigh was bitter. "I don't know if I am, either."

Darius could feel Will tensing again, and he knew that he needed to move slowly. He waved the shampoo at Will. "You want me to wash, for you?"

Will looked at him in surprise. "I don't — I mean-"

"Oh, please." Darius smiled at him. "I give a mean shampoo. My auntie, she ran a beauty parlor in Atlanta, and every time I got into trouble, I had to work at the shop. I was her shampoo boy, and some of her ladies were damn particular."

Will just shrugged in acquiescence. "Why not?"

Darius squeezed a small dollop of spicy-smelling shampoo into his palm, and worked it between his hands, adding a little water to thin it down. Then he rubbed it into Will's hair, massaging with the heels of his hands and his fingertips, using solid, moderate pressure. On his first pass, he hit a spot near the back of Will's right ear that made him jump and moan, and when he found the corresponding spot on Will's left side, he thought the other man might crumple right to the shower floor.

"You're tense," Darius said needlessly, moving his hands down to Will's shoulders and steering him under the spray. "Rinse, and let me help." He pressed his palms along the tight muscles in Will's upper back, along his shoulders and around the sides of his neck. He could feel knots loosening under his touch, and by the time the last of the suds had rinsed away, he could feel Will breathing easier.

"Better?" he asked, reaching around Will to grab the soap.

"It's good," Will admitted softly, and laid his hand on Darius' arm. "It feels great."

"Good," Darius said with a smile. "You deserve to feel great."

"Here," Will said, stilling Darius' movement. "Let me." He slipped the soap from Darius' hand, and ran it in broad strokes over his back. Darius shivered, because Will's touch was gentle and soothing and so incredibly intimate.

"You and Toby, you've been helping each other feel great for a long time."

Will was quiet for a moment. Then he spoke, his voice low in Darius' ear as he rubbed meditative circles on his skin.

"There's a beach we used to visit, up along the shore of Lake Erie. We started going when we were boys, at music camp. It was a... a special place for us. One year I didn't get to go, because I had the stomach flu. We always slept in the same bed at camp — it started because I was scared and Toby was lonely, but we loved it. But we hadn't slept together the night before, because I was sick. It was our first summer night apart in years, and I was… frantic." Will grazed the round top of his ass with his fingers, and Darius fought to keep from thrusting back against it. "Toby... he washed me in the shower, when he got home from the bay. I could smell the lake and the sun and the wind on his skin. He... he got me off, for the first time, like that, in the shower."

"Oh," Darius groaned. "God. Nice. How old were you?"

"Fifteen."

"Did he..." He backed up a deliberate step, bumping against Will's erection, eliciting a surprised grunt. "Did he use his hands... or his mouth?"

"Hand. We didn't do anything else together until college."

"But I bet you thought about it," Darius said. Will was quiet for a long moment, and Darius turned around to face him.

"All the time," he said quietly. "I thought I was wrong for wanting it, though."

Darius slipped one hand down and collared Will's cock with the ring of his thumb and forefinger, stroking lightly. It made Will gasp, but he didn't pull away. Their eyes met. "And now?"

"Now... I have it." Will's words spoke of satisfaction, but there was longing on his face, and Darius thought he knew just what Will wanted. "And he's damn good at it."

"Well, I'll tell you," he purred, dropping to his knees, letting Will's body shelter his face from the spray. "I'm damn good at it, too."

He let Will be the judge of that as he slipped his lips over the tip of Will's cock.  _Well, if Toby didn't know what we were doing before,_  he thought, as Will let out a throaty, desperate moan,  _he surely does now._  Will's hands shot out to brace himself on the wall, and he staggered a little.

"God," he gasped. "I can't - we can't do this."

Darius grasped Will firmly in his right hand as he traced the fingers of his left up the inside of Will's thigh. He could feel the intensity of his response, hear him breathing in quick pants, on the edge of coming already, like he was one of those teenagers.

"We can," he insisted. "If you want it. Toby said it was all right. And you don't see me complaining, do you?"

Darius wasn't going to wait for Will to talk himself out of it. This time, when he took him in his mouth, he let Will feel the constriction of his throat, the pressure of his tongue on the vein on the underside. He was going to make it good for him, just as he himself might want it, and the whimpering cries coming from Will's mouth indicated he was succeeding. Really, the sight of Will standing above him, struggling not to come apart right there, was damn compelling. Darius reached between his legs to stroke himself roughly into the heat and steam of the shower, and thought of Toby out in the bedroom, waiting for them. He wondered what he was doing, while he waited. If he was listening... if he was ready and wanting as well.

The idea of it spurred Darius on. It wasn't going to take much now to bring Will to completion, so he focused on the weight of Will's cock in his mouth, the friction of his tongue and lips, the little shifts of pressure that were making Will shudder and buck against him. He snaked an arm around Will's hips, holding him still and firm - until a warm laugh fell over them.

"Let go of him. He wants to fuck your mouth, darlin'. That'll get him there in a heartbeat. I have some ideas about what might happen after that."

Will cried out when he heard Toby's voice, and at first Darius thought Will might pull away entirely, but Toby was right there, leaning in under the spray, touching Will on his shoulder, kissing his cheek, letting him fall against him.

Watching the intimacy between the two of them together, even those little glimpses, inspired more feelings in Darius than everything else they'd done so far. He'd had lovers up and down the eastern seaboard, north from Chicago and south to Atlanta, but he hadn't had anything like  _that,_ not ever.

_Toby was right,_  he thought with dismay, even as he was compelled to grip Will's thighs harder and take him deeper down his throat.  _I do want something like that. With a guy like Will._

"It's okay, Will," Toby murmured, the love clear in his voice. " _It's okay_. Let it go."

Toby's words, the erratic motion of Will's hips, and the constant, unceasing pressure of Darius' mouth pushed Will over the edge. He came, shouting, down Darius' throat, just bare seconds after Toby spoke.

"Oh, holy  _fuck_ ," Will gasped, leaning back against the wall of the shower. He reached out hands that trembled and shook, and, finding Darius' braids, snatched them right back again. Toby soothed him with hands on his shoulders and gentle clucking sounds, but Darius could feel Will trembling. And when he looked up through the spray of water cascading over them both, he could see the panic in Will's eyes.

"I've got to - I can't -" Will stammered, and he nearly tore the shower curtain off its rod as he stumbled out of the tub. Toby tried to hold him back, but Will pushed through them and shot out the door into the bedroom.

Toby reached into the shower, turning off the spray and giving the curtain an impatient push. He silently handed Darius a thick towel.

"I guess that wasn't such a good idea, huh?" Darius said in an apologetic voice, taking the towel.

Toby sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Will's still really new to… everything. I think he's scared, a lot, especially about things he thinks he  _shouldn't_  want." He held out a hand. "Just - wait here. I'm going to run interference. Check in with us in a few minutes, okay?"

Darius might have objected if Toby hadn't leaned in and sealed his mouth on his. He gave in to the kiss, feeling the pressure of Toby's own tongue. When he pulled away, a little dazed, Toby gave him a wicked grin.

"Mmmm," he said, licking his lips. "That's a familiar flavor."

Darius shook his head, but couldn't suppress a grin. "You're terrible."

"I am," Toby said with a smirk before letting his expression settle towards serious. "Don't you worry your pretty head. William will come around; he just needs to have a good ol' freak out first."

"You sure? Because I can go..." Darius waved his hand vaguely, but Toby shook his head.

"No. Stay. Just give me a few minutes." Toby took off through the bedroom and into the hallway, and Darius just focused on drying off. He ran a hand through his braids to shake off the excess water, and looked twice at the edge of the sink before using his finger and a dollop of Toby's toothpaste to get rid of the lingering taste of the beer he'd had at the start of the party.  _Not to mention the taste of Will._

He could see, in hindsight, precisely how much of a bad idea this was. Toby and Will - they were having their own problems, things that didn't concern him. Darius didn't want to get into the middle of that.

Only he'd never been good at lying to himself. And the truth was, he really, really did.

* * *

Will knew if there was anything he was very good at, it was self-recrimination. He couldn't blame anybody but himself, as much as he might want to. Because, really, who'd walked upstairs, practically naked, and followed Darius into Toby's bedroom? Who'd given Darius the green light to sleep with his fiance? Who'd listened when Toby said  _fight or fuck applies to you, too, darlin',_ and gone right into the shower with a relative stranger? And who'd definitely stuck around while said stranger gave him a blowjob, with Toby whispering encouragement into his ear?

He was sick and ashamed. And completely, utterly turned on by the idea of doing it again.

"Is this why you do it?" he said dully, not even bothering to turn around. He knew Toby was there, waiting for him, at the foot of the stairs.

"Do what, darlin'?" He wrapped a towel around Will's dripping shoulders. Will put an automatic hand on Toby's, staring out the window.

"This." Will made a motion in the general direction of the bathroom. "You do this all the time. I've never wanted it, Toby, not ever."

"No," Toby agreed. "You never did."

"So why do I want it  _now?"_  he whispered. "What's wrong with me?"

"Oh, Will..." Toby's arms slipped around the towel, holding him from behind. "Nothin'. Nothin's wrong with you. You're just a man, and the things you want, they can change. Darius and me, we went from being rivals to friends in the course of a summer. We changed, too."

"That's different. The two of you, you always wanted each other." Will shook his head, forestalling Toby's comment. "No, don't try to deny it. Shelby made me see it, but she's right. You two had chemistry from the beginning."

"He wanted  _you,_  Will," Toby said patiently. "You're the one he's been chasin' all summer. I told him he couldn't have you, that you were mine, but - that wasn't fair of me. All my life, you've let me have my other men, my boys on the side."

Will's laugh came out more bitter than he intended. He still couldn't look at him. "No, you're the one who was letting me have my  _wife._  I had no justification for making you give up anything for me."

"You could have, though. You could have asked me to not be with anyone else. And you never did." He kissed Will's neck. "There's no reason you can't have this, if you want it."

Will let himself consider the images in his head, the ones that had followed him from his dreams, as well as the brand-new ones, generated from Darius' cool voice, Darius' mouth on him, Darius washing his goddamn  _hair._ "I don't know."

"I believe you're not sure about some things, Will, but - do you want it?"

The answer to that, at least, was clear. He closed his eyes, feeling Toby's lips on his skin. "Yeah," he whispered. "That doesn't mean it's a good idea."

"But if we all want it, doesn't that make it a good idea? The confusion, the complication - that's all for later." He turned Will to face him. "No day but today, darlin'."

"That's an idea for kids, Toby." He resisted Toby's attempt to kiss him, putting one hand on his chest, holding him back. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

Toby's smile was impossibly sweet. "Yeah," he said. "I really do. And I think, when you're not  _overthinking_  everything, you do, too."

"This is about our whole life, Toby," he protested. "You want a whole life of - this? Of other boys, you, me, the confusion of other people? You really want that?"

Toby's hands tightened on his shoulders, and he stared intently into Will's eyes. "Yeah, William,  _I do._  Because we've always been that way. It's you, and me, and our lovers - and through it all, always, every moment, it's still  _you and me._  That's what I want."

Will stood in the midst of confusion and doubt and fear and felt the breath of  _you and me_  filling his lungs. It was like a revelation.

"Oh," he whispered. "Oh, Toby."

He took Toby's face in his hands and kissed him. Their connection, the thing they'd had since the very first day they met, over twenty years ago, was as strong as ever. Toby responded as he always did, passionately, giving himself completely. It was what he did to everything he'd ever done.

Will pulled back, not letting his face go, and Toby's hands came up to mirror his hold. They gazed at each other, breathing hard.

"I think," Will said, "I think... with you, Toby, I could do anything. Anything. And it would be okay."

"That's my Will," Toby murmured, brushing his wet curls back from his face. "There ain't nothin' we can't do, together."

Will nodded, feeling the tears lurking, but in that moment, not caring one bit. "I believe you. When it's the two of us, like this, I'm not scared. Not scared to  _want_  things, or to  _do_  things." He took him in his arms and held him close, feeling his strength, the perfect power of his long, lean body. "God, I love you, Toby."

"I love you, too, darlin'." Toby spared a glance for the staircase. "There's a very nice and very confused man up there, waitin' for us to tell him what's next."

Will smiled. "Yeah. I hope he's okay." He took Toby by the hand. "You think we should go check on him?"

Toby smiled back quizzically. "I think we need to figure out what you want, first."

"I told you," Will said quietly. "As long as we're together, Toby, we can do anything." His anxiety was gone; he felt calm and certain. "And... I want this, if you do."

Toby kissed his cheek. "I can't say I haven't been thinkin' about it."

"Me, too," Will admitted, and Toby's smile grew. He tugged on his hand. "And I think if I don't do something about it now, I'm just going to get stuck in all those fears again, so..." He broke into quiet song. " _There is no future / There is no past / I live each moment / As my last."_

"Such a romantic," said Toby, following him up the stairs. "No wonder I love you so much, Will Schuester."


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Finn angst and m/m/m sex. -amy

_Last day of summer school,_  Finn told himself. It was a lot harder to get out of bed and out the door to class when he was the only one awake. Not that he begrudged Kurt, Blaine and Puck a night together. It just made him a little grumpy to be the one making breakfast in Toby's kitchen before getting on the highway back to Lima.  _Last day, and then…_ He wasn't sure how to finish that sentence, but he hoped it involved sleeping in.

Finn shoved a piece of toast into his mouth and chewed, which naturally was the cue for his phone to start ringing. He huffed and jammed his arms into the sleeves of his jacket, grabbing his backpack, but he paused when he saw who it was on the phone.  _Carl._ He swallowed his toast.

"I'm getting on the road," said Finn into the phone. "Hang on."

He didn't wait for Carl's response, but took his time connecting his earbuds to his phone as he started his car. Slowly, he backed down Toby's gravel driveway and onto the dirt road that pointed toward highway 30, trying to collect his thoughts.

"Okay," he said finally.

" _Are you okay driving and talking at the same time?"_  Carl asked.

"Why wouldn't I be? We've done that a bunch of times."

" _I'll try not to make it too stressful for you."_  He paused, which was more stressful than anything he could have said, but Finn waited it out. " _I wanted to let you know that you're going to see another familiar face at McKinley this fall."_

"Somebody's transferring?" Finn asked. He could hear the sounds of someone making coffee in the background, not the loud whir of Irene's espresso machine, but Carl's own hand-cranked bean grinder. It kind of made him smile and kind of pissed him off.

" _No, a new teacher. Six told Irene she's been hired to teach physical education and to coach football."_

"Six is going to be our new coach?" Finn laughed, thinking of the skilled leathersmith who'd made his collar, and Blaine's. "Dude, she's a teacher?"

" _Eight years in Dublin schools north of Columbus, but her school's consolidating, cutting teachers. I thought you should know before heading back. You can count on Shannon to be discreet."_

_Shannon._  "I've never heard her real name."

" _Shannon Beiste. She's never heard yours either, Finn, but if you will permit me, I'll tell her about you."_

"Yeah, uh… that's fine. Does Lauren know, too?"

Carl paused.  _"I don't know."_

"She's been hanging out at our house all summer, with Sarah. Can I tell her?"

" _I suppose you might as well."_  Finn heard him sigh, and his heart gave a little twinge.  _"I'm heading out of town again. There's a conference in New York."_

The whole conversation felt disturbingly familiar to him, the way Carl was talking with him. Like they were still friends. Boyfriends. He wasn't going to ask about what kind of conference. Carl had said  _we._ He wasn't going to ask about that, either.

"Okay," he said. "I guess… we should put something on the schedule for when you get back?

" _That would be fine. You can call my office to book an appointment."_

_Oh, goody, I get to talk to Mark._  Finn made a private face. To Carl, he said, "Sure, I'll do that."

" _I'm… glad that your summer school went so well. Considering how full your summer has been, I'm surprised you've had time to study at all."_

Finn frowned at the phone. If he didn't know better, he would have said he was being baited. "Yeah, well, seeing Puck focused and Kurt happy were pretty big motivators."

" _And Blaine."_

"Yeah, Blaine." It was pointless to try to deny it. Carl knew both of them too well for that. "He said he misses playing with us. Uh, playing  _music_  with us."

" _I miss that too. If you would like to continue our performances, there are some smaller venues along the way between Lima and Westerville."_

Finn was quiet for a minute. "That wouldn't be too weird?"

" _Weird because of our history?"_

He had to shake his head, smiling. "Not sure I can call it  _history_  if it's stuff we did a couple weeks ago."

" _Finn…"_

He tried to stay relaxed, to focus on the road. "Look, I don't want you to think just because I'm calling you and talking about playing music together that I'm any more sure about… about us. Because I'm not."

" _No, you made yourself clear after the concert. We agreed that was one night, that it wouldn't mean anything. You can still make your own decisions about what's best for you."_

"It did," said Finn quietly. "Mean something. It meant everything."

There was a silence.

" _Yeah?"_  Carl asked.

"Yeah. You know it did."

" _For me, too."_ He sighed again.  _"I'll talk to you when we get back from New York. I love you."_

Hearing Carl say it, like there was no question in his mind, eliminated any response Finn could have made. He just stared at the road and kept his hands on the wheel, and listened to the silence left behind after Carl disconnected the call.

When he got to class, Ms. Holliday could tell right away that something was off with him, and Finn could tell  _she_  could tell, but neither of them said anything. He took the written part of his final exam, then went to wait in the hallway for his name to be called for the oral portion. He was the only one remaining when he heard her say, "Finn Hudson."

She gave him a sympathetic smile as he folded himself into the chair across from her desk.  _"¿Estas bien?"_

" _No estoy bien,"_  Finn said, shrugging.  _"Supongo que tengo que ser."_

She didn't press him to say more. Her scripted exam questions were gentle, though, and Finn finally returned her smile when she turned the paper over.

"Congratulations. You passed."

" _Eres un maestra estupendo,"_  he said.

"And you're a great student," she replied. "I really enjoyed having you in class. How about this fall? You're going to keep going with Will — with Mr. Schuester?"

"I think so." He nodded at her. "What about you? You're going to keep teaching, right? I mean, that would be a bummer if you didn't."

She leaned back in her chair, relaxing. "I have a long-term sub position for the first month of school in Findlay. And I'll be taking evening classes to work toward my teacher certification. It'll be crap money, but good enough for what I need until I finish the certification. I have a few clients who go to school here. I just need to find a place to stay in Lima, and I'll be all set."

Finn knew better than to ask  _what kind of clients._  If they were the kind Carl saw, he shouldn't ask, and if they were the kind Ms. Pillsbury saw, he  _still_  shouldn't ask. "My, um… we've got a new football coach who's moving here from Columbus. She might need a roommate."

"Is that right?" Ms. Holliday smiled. "I'll have a chat with your principal about that. So what's on your calendar for the rest of the summer?" When Finn hesitated, looking out the door, she added, "I made sure you were the last one to do the spoken part of your exam. It looked like you could use somebody to talk to."

"Oh."

He just sat there, trying to sort through the layers of complicated. Ms. Holliday didn't say anything. She just sat with him, seeming completely at ease in the silence.

"Something happened," he said at last. "I broke up with somebody. It was for the right reasons, and… and it sucked. Sorry about my language."

"We're off the clock, Finn. You can say whatever you fucking want to me."

He flashed a grin at her, but it dimmed quickly. "I felt like it was the right thing to do, but then something else happened, and… well, have you ever read a book by Nick Bantok called  _Griffin and Sabine?"_

She cocked her head. "I don't think so."

"You'd remember it. Anyway, there's a picture in it, a painting by one of the main characters, Griffin. He called it  _Man Descending a Staircase_ , and it was a picture of a guy lying upside down on the steps." He stared at his hands. "I feel like that."

"Like you're upside down on the steps?" She asked it matter-of-factly, not like she was laughing at him at all.

"Like what I expected and the way things are really are completely different."

She leaned in closer. "So how are things? Really?"

"I, uh. I don't know if I can talk about that with you."

"That's okay, you don't have to. I bet I've heard everything before, though. When I'm not dressing up in silly costumes for summer school Spanish classes, I'm a teen counselor."

"Oh." That meant she was probably talking about  _clients_  like Ms. Pillsbury's. "He — the guy I broke up with — he's older. Like, a lot older. And, you know, that means he's got power over me? But I kind of… didn't mind that. Except that I really wanted him to be, like, my boyfriend, and he said we couldn't."

He paused and checked Ms. Holliday's face for any kind of judgment or surprise, but he didn't see either one. She nodded. "Sounds about right."

"Yeah." Finn exhaled. "I knew that, but I still… I couldn't stop wanting it. So I just, I decided it was better not to have it at all."

"So that's what it's really like?"

"No, that's actually how I thought it was going to be." He gnawed on his lip. "This is really okay, talking about this?"

"It really is," she said. "You're surprising me, but none of it is unfamiliar. Go on."

"Well… I guess you could say we hooked up last month. Just one night. We kind of agreed it didn't mean we were getting back together, and I told him nothing's changed."

He stopped talking. This time, she crossed her legs the other way and prompted, "Nothing's changed?"

"No, except…" He ran out of words and shrugged again in frustration.

"Maybe you're feeling conflicted because you know how good it was, and you still don't think you should be doing it."

"It's not that I don't think I  _should,"_  he said. "I'm not ashamed of what we — had. But conflicted, yeah. Because of how it was, this last time. We went out to a concert and kind of, um, had a date. Back when we broke up, I told him I didn't want a fake boyfriend, but this date was like that. A fake boyfriend."

She nodded. "How was that?"

"It was really  _good,"_  he said, drawing it out, and she laughed. He couldn't help smiling. "So, yeah. How do I tell him I want to go back to what we had when I was so sure it wasn't?"

"Now, wait. You gave some pretty good reasons for why it wasn't a good idea to begin with. Aren't they still true?" She looked hard at him, until he reluctantly nodded. "So you're going to have to decide what's more important."

"I guess I don't know how he was able to make it be okay to do this now," Finn said slowly, "when he said it wasn't okay before. Like, was it because we were far away from home, or because we were at the Adam Lambert concert, or because I wasn't — because he was pretending things were equal?"

"Probably all of those. Was this in Cleveland?"

"Cleveland, yeah," he said, blinking at her.

"I went to the Columbus performance in June. Hell of a show." She patted the desk lightly. "You'll have to ask him. Not Adam Lambert. Your ex. He'll tell you why, right?"

"Yeah. I mean, I think he will."

She reached into her purse and handed him a card. "Well, if the two of you decide you want a couples counselor, you can give me a call. I'm not your Spanish teacher anymore."

Finn put Ms. Holliday's card in his pocket, but he didn't forget about it. When he got home, he stuck it face-down to the bulletin board by the phone, up high where nobody but him would look at it. Every time he walked by the bulletin board after that, he saw the card, and he thought about what she'd said.  _You're going to have to decide what's more important._

* * *

Blaine seemed more distracted than usual when Finn pulled up to the house on his father's sprawling circular drive. It was just about the most extravagant house Finn had ever seen, and although Blaine told him it wasn't a big deal, he was still a little intimidated by it.

Blaine himself didn't make it any easier. There he was, in the glow of the porch light, his hand on the ornate finial, smiling at him in his expensive sweater, looking like an image out of an advertisement for prep school - and here  _he_  was, Finn, in ten-dollar khakis and a t-shirt, driving his used Ford Focus with the rattle in the muffler and the patched-up tailpipe, arriving to deliver some very targeted and specific physical discipline to the boy who was dating his boyfriends.

Finn swung the car door shut and put on a smile. "How's your last week of rehearsal going?"

"Good."

"Did you guys, uh... have a nice date tonight?"

"Yes," Blaine nodded, his cheeks red. "We went to the movies."

"What did you see?"

Blaine shrugged, and met Finn's gaze boldly as he welcomed him into the front hall. "Something second-run that nobody was interested in. It might have been animated, but I couldn't say for sure."

Judging by Blaine's response, there hadn't been a lot of  _watching_  of much of anything. "And if I asked Puck and Kurt, what would they say?"

"They may have seen more of the movie than I did." He leaned on the door behind him, eyes twinkling with mischief. "But we had a good time."

"I'm sure you did," Finn replied dryly. He stifled a twinge of irritation. This was about giving Blaine what he needed, not - anything else. "But that kind of behavior in a public place, especially with the  _three_  of you? It isn't smart, and I'm not sure that it's safe either. I just- I want to make sure that nothing happens to you.  _Any_  of you."

"Yes,  _sir_ ," Blaine taunted, and emphasized his tone with a well-timed eye roll.

Finn blinked, then made himself take a calming breath before holding out his hand. "Come here, Blaine."

Blaine took his own deep breath, and took Finn's hand even as he looked at the floor. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have said that."

Finn pulled him into his arms and held him tight. "You listened to me, though," he said. "When I tell you what you need, you always listen. That's very good. And I'll help you. You don't have to handle it alone."

Blaine shook his head against Finn's chest. "Spending time at my dad's house, even just a little bit… it gets to me. I'd rather be with you guys in Lima. It's not fair for me to take it out on you."

Finn felt his own tension melting away, with Blaine there, his warmth and solid weight against him. "I know you don't mean it, though," Finn insisted. "It's not what you say with your words that I hear. I know what you're really saying, underneath, and so it doesn't hurt, you know?" He ran his fingers through Blaine's unruly curls, and listened to him sigh.

"What am I saying, underneath? Because I just feel so confused all the time. The only time I'm  _not_  is after we…um. You know."

"Yeah, I know." Finn tried not to let his grin color his words. This was serious to Blaine — to both of them. "And we're going to do that, right now."

Finn knew the house well enough by now to take the lead, holding Blaine by the hand as they walked up the grand staircase to the second floor landing. Blaine walked, silent and small, by his side, hanging back a little as they reached the door to his room.

"What?" Finn asked.

"That room." Blaine shifted uncomfortably, staring through the doorway into the too-sterile space, decorated in muted greens and maroons. It didn't look like a bedroom belonging to a boy of sixteen, even if he did only live there part of the year. He shrugged. "This whole place, I guess. It's not really my house. My dad moved here with Thomas when he and my mom broke up."

Finn thought of the way Kurt's basement still felt more welcoming than just about any other place he'd ever been, even after they'd known each other a couple weeks. The way Sarah had made the guest room her own, and Kurt's room had slowly been transformed into a space for the three of them. The way his mother had gradually moved her things from their smaller house into the Hummel's over the course of the spring, making her own distinctive mark on a house full of boys. The seven of them, crowded into the two floors of rooms, tripping over each other, too loud and busy, and absolutely  _home._ And now, the home they were building together, and how it felt to see it coming together.

"You don't really have a home, do you?" he said softly.

Blaine shrank farther away, and Finn could feel him getting smaller and smaller.

"Hey," he whispered, tipping Blaine's chin up so that they could look at each other, "talk to me."

"I c-can't," Blaine stammered, his eyes filling with tears.

"Yes, you can." Finn leveled his voice, made it commanding in the way that got through to Blaine when nothing else could.

"It's just… the show's over now, or almost over. I'm going to be back at my mom's, or here. You have Puck and Kurt, and your mom and Kurt's dad, and Sarah, and  _everybody._ " He gestured expansively at himself. "I just have me. I'm alone. No, I'm  _lonely_. Even in a room full of people."

This was startling, because Blaine was just about the most gregarious person he'd ever met, but Finn thought he might understand what he was saying. He'd seen it, sometimes, in Patrick's eyes when he performed, and in Blaine's when he thought no one was watching.

"Even with Puck and Kurt?" he asked. "With  _me_?"

Blaine blinked, sending tears tumbling down his cheeks. "Maybe especially with the three of you. Because you have each other, so why do you need me? Why do you  _want_  me?"

Finn shook his head, touching Blaine's cheek. "You really have no idea, do you?"

"No," Blaine sighed, taking in a shuddery breath. "I guess I don't. I'm just me. I'm nothing special, never enough of anything for anyone."

Finn gazed down into his eyes, so full of conflict and fear. This was Blaine, the boy from the club, that Puck had dreamed about for  _months,_  every day, the hottest dreams Finn had ever heard him talk about. Blaine, Kurt's friend — the kind he needed, who gave him something he'd been looking for, maybe all his life.

_And... Blaine - my boy._ It rocked him, and he had to pause to catch his breath.

"You're  _everything,"_  he whispered, but he couldn't say the rest out loud, because it was just too much for him to even consider.  _Everything we need. Everything that makes this family whole._

"Go on," he said, giving Blaine a little gentle push. "On the bed. I'm going to take care of you now."

Blaine nodded, his face suddenly serious. "Yes, sir." He shed his pants and underwear before kneeling, and Finn suppressed a smile.

"Good boy," he said, and he watched the way Blaine's body shifted at the praise, gentle relaxation seeping into his muscles. He slipped onto the bed next to him, laid a hand at the small of Blaine's back. "You're such a good boy, always listening and doing just what I ask." He lowered his voice, held his mouth close to Blaine's ear. "You make me very proud, do you know that?"

"You tell me all the time," Blaine said, leaning into the pressure of Finn's hand. "But I still don't really know it."

Finn stroked his back from shoulders to tailbone, watching the tension slipping away, leaving him pliable and loose under his hands. "Then I'll keep telling you until you believe me."

The discipline was sharp and focused, and Blaine cried hard. He never attempted to avoid it anymore, but let himself give in to the sensation, taking the relief it offered. He lay curled in Finn's lap for far longer than the actual spanking had taken.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"I know," said Finn. "And it's done. You can put it down now, and move on. Okay? Let's get you to bed."

* * *

It was dark, and the pattern of the moon across the bed was all wrong to Finn's eyes. He couldn't find the clock, and the smell of the pillow wasn't right. And Kurt - no, it wasn't Kurt, wrapped in his arms, grasping his hips, wedging himself against Finn's thigh.

_Oh._

"Blaine," he whispered, trying not to startle him, but the name came out more breathy than he'd intended, and Blaine's sleepy response was more of a desperate moan. He clutched at Blaine's shoulders. "Blaine. Come on, you're - you're dreaming, or something."  _Something. God._

"Not dreaming," Blaine muttered, and his hands found Finn's ass, pulling him against him. They both gasped. "Ohhh, I want..."

"No," Finn said, feeling a little panicked. "No, you  _don't._  You don't want this, Blaine. Not... not with me. Come on."

He peeled Blaine's hands off him, turned him around in his arms and held him fast. Instantly Blaine was still, all of him except his heaving chest.

"Finn," he said. It was a plea, a cry for help. Kurt and Puck weren't here now; he couldn't send Blaine to their bed for release. There was no way Finn could ignore it. He closed his eyes.

"I'm here, Blaine."

"Please... I can't, I need..." His hips shifted, thrusting forward, back again, and Finn clenched his teeth against the force of the arousal that slammed through him at the motion.

He scrambled for the discipline Carl had taught him, the way to separate his own sexual need from the demands of the moment. With Blaine right there, filling his senses with temptation, it wasn't easy, but he managed to calm himself down enough to focus on Blaine.  _This is about Blaine._

"It's okay," he soothed. "I'm right here. I'm... I'm going to take care of you."

It wasn't even a question, because Blaine needed him, and that trumped everything, all of his good judgement and clearly drawn lines about what was  _appropriate_. His left arm tightened around Blaine's torso, cradling him in the crook of his other arm, as he took Blaine's hand and helped him to wrap it around his own cock. Blaine shuddered, but he didn't move. He just sat there, holding himself, and Finn could feel the trembling racking his body.

"Relax," Finn said, pitching his voice for command. "Remember, we talked about this. You can do this. I'm not going anywhere."

"You - really?" He sounded absolutely desperate now, and the wild relief in his voice made Finn feel a little less guilty. Finn nodded and kissed Blaine's hair just above his ear.

"Let me tell you all about it." He replaced his arm under Blaine's, giving him room to move his arm freely, but still he lay there, frozen and shaking. "About you. About... Puck. And Kurt. God, do you have any idea how much they want you?"

Blaine moaned and his hips twitched, just a little, and Finn clutched him tighter against his chest, not trusting his own hands to go anywhere else. "I - they're so hot, so beautiful, both of them, and... I just can't believe they want  _me."_

"They do. Puck still dreams about you every night when you're not there. He wakes up and tells us about his dreams. Usually he has to take care of things after that, or we have to take care of him, because it's just that hot."

Blaine was starting to relax a little, to give himself a little friction, and Finn tried to ignore the way he was grinding back against Finn's own rock-hard cock.  _Not important,_  he thought to himself, trying to be fair.  _It's just a response. You don't need to worry about it. Focus on Blaine._

"And Kurt... I think he thinks the sun rises and sets on you. You're all he can talk about, and when he says your name, his whole face lights up." Finn leaned in a little, his breath tickling Blaine's ear, and Blaine sped up his hand, his breath coming in erratic pants. "He and Puck had a whole conversation about you while lying in bed together, and when they were done, Kurt demanded to be fucked. I'm pretty sure he was thinking about you doing it."

"Oh my god," Blaine gasped, his hips thrusting forward. He was getting into it now, his pace more determined. Finn could feel the tension in his stomach muscles. "I haven't ever done that, I mean — not on top like that — not with anybody. You really think he -?"

"Oh, I know it," Finn assured him. "He loves it. Just like - " He pressed his lips together just in time to keep the words from slipping out,  _just like I do._  Because  _god,_  so not the time to introduce  _that_  topic. "He really does."

Blaine was apparently caught by this image, because he didn't even hesitate in his next action. He paused, bringing his hand to his mouth, licked his palm in one long, wet stripe, and returned to stroking himself. It was so unbelievably unselfconscious and deliberate and  _hot_  that Finn could only stifle his own responding moan.  _Blaine's tongue. Not thinking about Blaine's tongue licking... things. Not thinking about it._

But Blaine was clearly thinking about all  _kinds_  of things. Whatever he was thinking about was making him move faster now, and with every stroke he made a little circular grind back against Finn's cock. Finn had a moment of stifling indecision, in which he knew exactly what would happen if he didn't do anything, and he thought,  _maybe I should stop this._  But in the end, he knew he wasn't going to. He wouldn't. That would just be unfair to Blaine, who clearly needed this, like he needed sleep or food. If Finn could give it to him, he wasn't going to interfere.

"Puck loves fucking you, Blaine," Finn whispered, and he let Blaine drag his ass along the length of his cock, feeling his body give in to the constant pressure. He held as still as he could, kept his breathing as even as possible, as the orgasm surged through him. He hoped Blaine wouldn't care, or even notice, the warm wetness against his sweaty back. "He loves being inside you, making you his."

"Oh, god, oh," Blaine whimpered, his breathing cresting. "I love it - god, I love it too - Finn, please -"

"I'm right here," Finn said. He pressed his nose against Blaine's neck, taking a long, guilty breath, letting the scent of Blaine fill his lungs as he cried out in release.

It was a long time before Blaine fully relaxed, his muscles slowly softening, and at last he leaned back into Finn's arms with a slow sigh.

"You're sure that was okay?" he asked. Blaine was already fading back into oblivion.

"Anything you need is okay," Finn assured him. He shifted Blaine's body a little out of the wet spot and spooned him tight.

"I'm yours," he said, just a vague mumble, but Finn heard it.

"Yes." He kissed Blaine's neck once, and then again, listening to Blaine's sigh, this one of contentment. "And I'm saying you're  _ours."_

"Thank you, sir," he whispered, before falling asleep.

* * *

Finn and Puck both arrived at the house at the same time, Finn from Columbus and Puck from Brad's house. Kurt felt a little strange to be there together, just the three of them, but he wasn't sure how to say that without sounding like he was complaining. Finn was obviously on edge about something, but he didn't look ready to talk about that either.

"Do you have any more to do this week?" he asked Puck as they settled onto Kurt's bed.

"Nope. I'm a free agent. Shelby's got Beth until Wednesday, and Laurie said she wouldn't need me to watch Duncan and Cory for another couple weeks, 'cause they're going on vacation." Puck leaned back in the chair with a sigh. He ran his hands over his scalp, grimacing. "I haven't shaved in, like, four days. I feel like a fucking sheep."

"I kind of like it," Kurt said, fondly running a hand over his short curls. "Don't tell me you're not glad for the time to yourself."

"Hell, yeah," Puck said, with enthusiasm. "I get to sleep in. Or stay up. Or have a beer, or smoke a joint, or... drive to the lake, or... whatever I want."

Finn crossed his arms. "So? What do you want?"

"After I crash for fifteen hours?" Puck snorted. "I want to text Shelby over and over, asking for details about how many ounces Beth had for lunch and whether she napped on her stomach or her side." He rolled his eyes. "Fuck. I'm totally  _useless."_

"What was it you said?" Finn said, grinning, and leaned in to kiss Puck's neck. "Oh yeah - I kind of like it."

They hadn't tried to actually  _sleep_  in Kurt's full-sized bed, the three of them, since before the show began. Blaine was smaller and more compact. With Finn, it was a lot more crowded than Kurt had remembered.

"How do you  _fit_  three people in a bed this size?" Kurt complained, the third time Finn's elbow ended up in his face.

"We got spoiled this summer, the three of us in Toby's king-sized bed, in that upstairs room," Puck said. Then he paused, glancing at Finn. "I mean, the three of us with Blaine."

"Mmm. That  _is_  a nice bed," Kurt sighed. "But I'd rather have us all here, even if we have to squeeze."

"Absolutely," Finn said, with clearly false cheer. "Pretty soon we'll each have our own rooms, and big enough beds not to care how many people are there."

Kurt took off Puck's clothes slowly, wondering exactly what to do with the tension emanating from Finn, and the way Puck was acting so hesitant. It wasn't like they never had trouble anymore, the three of them, but most of the time, this was an easy, simple moment: alone together in Kurt's room, with no extra people, no complications.

_Maybe they weren't alone, then,_  he thought, folding Puck's shirt. Rachel had been gone all summer, so Finn could be missing her, although most of the time when Rachel was gone, Finn was more relieved than anything else. And ever since Carl and Finn had run into one another on opening night, Finn had been out of sorts, but Kurt didn't think this was about that. Carl didn't make Finn restless, just... sad.

He tugged Finn closer by the waistband on his jeans, and slid a hand under his t-shirt. "What do you need?"

Finn's lopsided smile was so welcome, even if it was a little distant. He put his arms around Kurt, holding him close. "Just this," he said. "Being here, with you guys, now that the show's over and I'm done with summer school. Pretty soon football training starts. We're going to be juniors, you know?"

That got Puck and Finn busy for five minutes, discussing the composition of the football team this year and their new coach, but Kurt didn't miss Finn's neat deflection.  _He might think this is what he needs,_ thought Kurt, _but it's not that simple._

He managed to get them both on the bed at the same time, and it was almost impossible for Finn and Puck to be shirtless within three feet of each other and  _not_  be making out, so that was something, at least. And Finn seemed to have some idea of what he wanted, at least, because he took Puck's head in his hands and directed it firmly between his thighs.

Puck didn't pause; he just opened his mouth and swallowed Finn's cock as deep as he could. Kurt couldn't help moaning. Watching the two of them together fulfilled about every teenage fantasy he'd ever had about football players. He let the two of them sprawl across the bed, and stood instead by Finn's shoulder, whispering words of encouragement in his ear and kissing him while Noah worked his magic.

"God," Finn moaned, louder than he probably should be, and Kurt shushed him gently, wondering exactly what Finn might do if he tried the gag trick Adam had taught him.

"He's  _so_  good at that, isn't he," he suggested, and delighted in Finn's answering groan and renewed vigorous thrusts. "Just relax and let him take care of you... or you can take his mouth like that, as deep as you want... claiming him, making him yours..."

"Mine," Finn growled, holding Puck's head in place as his hips bucked harder and more erratically. "Oh, god, so good. So good, baby. God,  _Blaine!_ "

Finn's eyes flew open at Kurt's gasp as he realized what he'd said, and he tried to scramble back, even though Puck's mouth was still working, still trying to swallow every last drop of Finn's come that he could get.

Kurt settled a hand on Finn's shoulder. "Relax, Finn... please. It's okay."

Finn shook his head, and Kurt couldn't tell if he was shaking from orgasm or from panic.

"Not okay," he finally ground out. " _So_  not okay." He waved his hand limply in the air. "Boundaries."

Kurt leaned over and kissed Finn, feeling aroused and a little needy, but not anything that demanded immediate attention. "You've been fighting the boundaries all summer, Finn."

"Yeah, man." Puck lifted his head off of Finn's thigh and smiled. "I mean... I can be Blaine for you, if that's what you want, but I think you two might be a hell of a lot happier if you got over yourselves and just let  _go_  of your fucking boundaries."

Finn groaned, and shifted himself over against the wall, making room for Kurt as he took off the last of his layers. "They're not for  _me._  I mean, god knows, I've got enough relationships here to keep me busy... but Blaine's the one who told  _me_  no. And I'm going to respect that. No matter what other signals he might be sending."

"Or what fantasies you might be having?" Kurt added, just to hear Finn growl again.

"What fantasies  _are_  you having?" Puck sat up, shedding the rest of his clothes off the end of the bed, leaving them in a heap. "Because they're probably things he'd like."

Finn flopped back on the pillows and flung his arm over his face. "Would you two just  _stop_? Because I  _can't_  think about what I want to do to him. Not if I want to be able to give him what he needs instead of... I don't know, tying him to the bed and fucking him into next Wednesday."

Kurt smiled at Puck, and leaned halfway off the bed, fumbling for the box of toys and tools they kept. When he hoisted himself back onto the mattress, he had the leather cuffs dangling from one finger. He leaned in and whispered into Finn's ear.

"I'm not Blaine, either… but you could tie  _me_  up and fuck me into next Wednesday, if you want."

* * *

Adam parked as far away from the entrance of the theater as he could get, partly to avoid being seen, but mostly to give himself a nice leisurely walk through the front door. He could have ordered tickets in advance, but there was something pleasantly electrifying about standing in line at the box office window and sliding two twenties across the counter. "One, please."

The woman handed him a five, a ticket, and a smile. "Enjoy the show."

"Oh," he said, "I will."

He couldn't avoid doing a little skip with his feet as he passed through the doors into the auditorium. The set looked familiar. He'd seen the show before, of course, but Kurt had described it to him enough times that he probably could have followed Kurt's blocking in his head.

_Minimize contact,_  he'd been told, and he would follow directions as best as he could manage. News of this visit would not end up online, not if he could do anything about it. He went right to row R and slid into his seat, itching under his wig with two absent fingers.

"I heard there was some pretty racy content in this show."

Adam turned to the woman seated beside him, smiling politely. She looked to be in her sixties or older, the skin on the back of her hand wrinkled and fragile.

"You could say that," he said. "It was edgier back when it first came out. If you're offended by talk about sex and drugs and AIDS, you might not love it."

"Oh, well." She waved the thought away with her hand. "We're all adults here. I think we can handle it."

He laughed. "They cast has gotten good reviews, especially the headliners."

The woman leafed through the program until she got to the cast list. He smiled to himself, reading Kurt's name beside  _Gordon._  She pointed with one finger to the cast member playing Mimi. "She's my granddaughter. I'm sure I'd be proud of her no matter how good she sounded, but she invited me, and I wanted to be here."

"That's really sweet." Adam wasn't going to mention his own connection to the cast, no matter how much he was tempted. It would have been easy to say  _my boyfriend's in the cast too,_  but then she would have either asked questions about him or stopped talking entirely, neither of which would have been all that comfortable to deal with.

"I've always been her biggest fan, from the time she was a little girl doing tap routines in her recitals." She settled herself into the velvet-upholstered folding seat.

"I loved it when my grandmother would come to my performances," he said. "Performing for people who already love you, that can sometimes be harder, but I always liked having fans."

"Well, tonight, we can be the fans." She looked up in surprise as the lights went down. "Starting already?"

"Right on time," he murmured.

The cast ran out onto stage to applause from the audience, carrying props, and quickly settled them into place. A chubby dark-haired man in the center turned to the audience and smiled.

"We begin on Christmas Eve," he said, in a clear, strong voice, "with me, Mark, and my roommate, Roger." He nodded at the curly-haired man across the stage. The program said  _Will Schuester,_  but Kurt always called him Mr. Schue, and that was how Adam thought of him. "We live in an industrial loft on the corner of 11th Street and Avenue B. It's the top floor of what was once a music publishing factory…"

Adam watched the woman beside him lean forward, already drawn into the story. Her eyes weren't on Mimi in the corner, but on Mark and the picture he was presenting: the loft, the wood-burning stove, the single extension cord. It wasn't all that different from Adam's own situation back when he'd begun acting. Although he'd never chosen to squat rent-free, he'd lived with his share of obnoxious roommates in tiny apartments, trying to make ends meet while making almost nothing in the swing cast.

He didn't see Kurt or Blaine on stage for another five minutes, when the swing cast made their appearance to sing chorus:

_Rent rent rent rent rent  
_ _We're not gonna pay rent  
_ ' _Cause everything is rent_

Everyone clapped loudly as the cast rearranged themselves on stage.

"They're very good!" said Mimi's grandmother with satisfaction. "That young man with the guitar, Roger? He's delightful."

_He's my boyfriend's show choir director_  was not going to pass his lips, so he just smiled and nodded.

The reviews hadn't lied. They were all very good, especially Toby Grey as Angel and Darius Mitchell as Collins. The energy between them made him feel a little sentimental, especially when they sang about what they could be to one another:

_Live in my house_  
 _I'll be your shelter_  
 _Just pay me back with one thousand kisses  
_ _Be my lover and I'll cover you_

Kurt's moment came in the middle of act one, when the Life Support group gathered to recite their affirmation. "Gordon" interrupted the group with his concerns. It was really a perfect role for Kurt, who was still heartbreakingly beautiful, even while wearing his suspicious, sardonic expression.

_Look, I find some of what you teach suspect_  
 _Because I'm used to relying on intellect_  
 _But I try to open up to what I don't know_  
 _Because reason says I should have died  
_ _Three years ago_

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jiJ25zj7Dwg> 

Blaine had his own moments, running the squeegee up and down: "Honest living, honest living…" But Adam lost track of him on stage, getting caught up in the story himself. When Mimi shed her kimono for "Out Tonight" and started grinding against the latticework, he gave her grandmother a sideways look, but she was nothing but smiles.

Watching Shelby as Maureen drove him into heart palpitations. It was true she didn't like him very much, but could he blame her? She wanted what was best for Beth. It was unfortunate he couldn't manage to convince her that he did, too.

Adam knew he wouldn't accidentally run into Finn or Noah. He'd asked Kurt all the right questions to make absolutely sure none of them would be in the audience on the last night. Still, he left in the middle of a scene to take a bathroom break, keeping it short, and watched out for other theater patrons as he made his way back through the nearly empty lobby.

_Everything's fine,_  he texted Crystal.

_The car's hot and boring,_  she replied.

He grinned. She wasn't about to come into the building, not when she could do a more effective job monitoring from the parking lot, but she wasn't going to pretend to have a good time either. It was nice to have someone like Crystal on staff, somebody who wouldn't get caught up in his bullshit, no matter what.

Adam decided staying in his seat at intermission was the safest choice, but he didn't count on the cast coming out and sitting on the proscenium, letting their legs dangle over the edge of the stage as they talked to the audience members milling around. Kurt and Blaine weren't there, but Toby Grey was, and Mr. Schue, and the gorgeous African-American actor in the role of Collins. Adam stood and made his way up to the edge of the auditorium, pausing just close enough to hear their conversation.

"No, it's my first time playing Roger," Mr. Schue was saying to the woman standing below him. He shrugged apologetically. "My day job keeps me pretty busy. This is the kind of thing teachers can do in the summer, though."

"Mmm, it's about time for me to find the next day job," said the man playing Collins. He leaned his back against Toby Grey's, ringing his knees with his arms. "It's been a good summer in Cleveland, though. I love this show."

"You've got plenty of choices," said Toby. "Come back and visit some time."

The man playing Collins grinned over his shoulder at Toby. "You can bet on it."

It was pretty clear there was something friendly going on between the two of them, but he watched Mr. Schue carefully, and there was nothing but calm acceptance on his face. He guessed whatever was happening had been negotiated, or had already run its course.

"How about you?" Toby asked the gathered crowd. "Any future members of the Cleveland Repertory Company among us?" His eyes scanned the margins of the room, passing over Adam — then coming back and pausing a heartbeat too long before continuing on.

_Shit._  Adam took what he hoped was a casual step backward, then returned to his seat, flipping through the program without seeing it. Toby only looked at him once more before the lights went down again, but he was pretty sure he'd been made. For a moment, he considered texting Crystal, but the lights came back down before he could do anything about it.

He didn't make it through the rest of the show without crying, but he was sure most of the rest of the audience was in the same boat. When last note sounded, they all rose to their feet, cheering as loudly as any of his own fans would have.

Kurt and Blaine came out on stage together, holding hands with the rest of the swing cast, although Kurt got a little extra bow for his solo. Adam made a whistle with his fingers in his mouth, letting the piercing sound carry what his words and actions couldn't. Crystal had told him,  _it has to be incognito, or not at all,_  and he wasn't in any position to argue with her, not after the kerfuffle in Illinois.

"Tell your granddaughter she was fantastic," Adam said, putting a hand on the woman's back. She beamed up at him as he stood.

"I will," she said. "There wasn't one word of that show I found offensive."

"That makes me happier than you can imagine," he told her.

He sent Crystal a  _ready_  text as he nudged himself out of the throng and into the parking lot. Within seconds, she'd pulled the town car into the driveway in front of him, idling with the door open.

"Are you coming, Adam, or do I need to keep Ohio on alert?

"No, no," he said, climbing into the front seat beside her, "this is my farewell. I just needed to make sure the rest of Ohio knew where I  _wasn't."_

She pulled smoothly into traffic, eyeing him. "So how was the show?"

He smiled. "Inspiring."

"You gonna tell them?"

With a sigh, Adam settled into the passenger seat, closing his eyes. "If I have my way, they'll never know I was there. But I think you're going to have to check with Toby Grey at Carmel High to see if he feels differently."

Crystal swore, jamming on the brakes at the light a little harder than she needed to. "You let him —?"

"I didn't, I swear. He saw something, though. I can have Kurt check with him if that's better than you calling…?"

"No. No, I'll clean it up." She exhaled in irritation. "Jesus. You had one job, Adam!"

"I'm going to assume that means I don't get to come back for their school play in the fall?"

"Don't even," Crystal snapped. "I already stuck my neck out for you, agreeing to come with you to this show. Now you're going to get on this plane and say exactly nothing to anybody, the whole way to Concord. Got it?"

He made a locking motion on his lips, tossing the virtual key over his shoulder, while she scoffed and rolled her eyes. He knew it didn't matter how much Crystal complained; she wasn't going to make him do anything. And it didn't make a whole lot of difference what Toby Grey knew, either. If Kurt had trusted him enough to tell him who Adam was, Toby wasn't likely to do anything to harm him.

Crystal didn't waste time. Within minutes, she was on the phone to three different people, the last one of whom apparently told her something that satisfied her. Adam kept true to his promise, smiling politely at the flight crew from behind the relative anonymity of his disguise. They

Eventually she turned to him, glaring. "I'll talk to him. It'll be okay."

"All right," Adam said. He wasn't going to argue.

"You know you can't do this forever."

He nodded. "I can't imagine this relationship would last anywhere close to that long, Crystal. My goal is to keep going until it doesn't make sense anymore."

She stared hard at him. "It doesn't make sense  _now."_

"I know." He smiled helplessly. "But it's everything I'm singing about. It's what inspires me and drives me to want to make more music and share it. How can I deny that?"

"Like this:  _no, not until you're twenty-one."_  But her expression had softened somewhat. She sighed as she leaned back, staring out the window. "Just… try not to get arrested, okay? That would seriously ruin my career."

"Just for you," he said, patting her hand. "I'll try to behave."


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote most of this chapter about three years ago. It was inspired by two different songs by folk singer Lucy Kaplansky. There are lyrics to one of them at the end. 
> 
> The last time I went to see Lucy Kaplansky in concert, about three years ago when I was just beginning to write this story, a whopping six of the songs she sang ended up being all about Blaine and Finn, including "[You Just Need A Home](http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/l/lucy_kaplansky/you_just_need_a_home.html)," "[Sanctuary](http://www.lyricsfreak.com/e/eliza+gilkyson/sanctuary_21014122.html)," "[Child's Hands](http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/l/lucy_kaplansky/childs_hands.html)," "[Just You Tonight](http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/l/lucy_kaplansky/just_you_tonight.html)" and "[Don't Mind Me](http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/l/lucy_kaplansky/dont_mind_me.html)." (Seriously, read them.) My girlfriend and I were completely dumbfounded. I cornered Lucy after the concert and told her; I'm not sure she knew what to say in response! Her intense, profound lyrics continue to inspire me every day, for which I am so grateful. 
> 
> Lyrics below for Puck's song for Kurt & Finn written not by Lucy Kaplansky, but by songirl77. Warning for m/m/m sex and extreme schmoopiness. 
> 
> -amy

 

Puck's duffel bag was almost full, and for once, Kurt wasn't there telling him how to pack it. Kurt had taken Sarah clothes shopping for eighth grade, and Shelby had Beth for a whole week. It would just be him and Finn, heading south of Louisville for some caving.  _Not an innuendo,_  he thought, and snickered to himself.  _Though there'd probably be plenty of that, too._

But Finn walked into Kurt's room slowly, his phone to his ear, and the expression on his face made Puck sink onto Kurt's dressing table stool and hide his face in his hands with a groan.

"Don't tell me that you can't go," Puck demanded as Finn closed his phone. "Finn? Come on!"

"No - no," Finn reassured him. "It's all right. That was Blaine. He's having another argument with his dad, and... I just feel bad that he's dealing with that, just as we're about to take off."

Puck swung the duffel off the bed. "You think he might want to come along?"

"You wouldn't mind?" Finn asked, and Puck rolled his eyes.

"Dude. He's my  _boyfriend._  Why would I mind?"

"Because this was supposed to be  _our_  vacation, to go away, just the two of us. You and me." Finn put a hand on Puck's arm. "And now... there's Blaine."

"He needs stuff," Puck said, shrugging. "I get that. I'm like that too."

Finn shook his head, smiling a little. "You're not like Blaine."

"I'm just saying, he needs you, so invite him. Maybe he'll say no, I don't know. You're in charge, right?"

Finn just gave Puck a grateful hug. "I'm still holding you to some time time alone, just you and me."

Puck kissed his ear. "Count on it," he breathed.

When they called, Blaine just about fell all over himself with anxious gratitude. He vacillated between guilt about interrupting their trip and excitement about coming along.

" _Are you sure I won't be in the way?"_  he asked for the fifth time.

"Babe, I wouldn't be asking you if you were." Puck watched Finn carrying their bags out to the Navigator. "You're totally welcome. When can we pick you up?"

* * *

The highway stretched in front of them like an endless welcome mat across the landscape, the other cars comfortably filling the spaces around them as the sun went down to their right. There was golden corn and green soybeans and brown telephone poles and cobalt sky, and that was about it.

"How long?" asked Blaine, looking out the window.

"Four more hours, give or take." Puck hung his arms over the back of the passenger seat, folding them over Blaine's chest. Blaine let his breath out in a gentle sigh. "It'll be the middle of the night by the time we get there."

"I love driving," Finn said with satisfaction. He kicked the cruise control up another notch, stretched his legs in the ample space under the Navigator's dashboard, and ate another fry.

"Yeah?" Puck sounded dubious. "I'd just as soon skip it. I think after this summer, I've had enough driving to last me for a couple years."

"I really like it. Maybe not having my own car for so long makes it more special, I don't know. But - being on the road, like this, with you - you guys." Finn found himself almost unable to say what he meant, but finally he managed, "I'm just happy, that's all."

The sun was on the horizon now, bobbing up and down over the houses and trees and turning the landscape red. Blaine yawned and let his eyes close for a few more seconds than the last time.

"Thanks again for letting me come along."

Finn glanced over at Blaine, relaxing in Puck's arms, and smiled.

"Sure, man," he said. "It's no problem at all."

They pulled off for gas once, and Puck bought some peanut brittle from a roadside stand that was actually pretty good. They passed it around the car while they talked about football.

"Driving through Arizona, I got some peanut brittle with jalapeños in it," Puck said, handing a piece to Finn. He took it, broke it in two pieces and gave one to Blaine.

"Was that good?" asked Blaine, making a face.

"Best ever," Puck claimed. "A little sweet, a little spicy."

Blaine sorted through Finn's CDs and pulled out one, unlabeled except for the words  _for Finn and Kurt._  He held it up. "What's this?"

"Uh... just something I made." Puck reached for it, but Blaine held it away from him, grinning.

"Puck wrote a song for me and Kurt, back in the fall," said Finn, "but I didn't even know about it until this June. Kurt said I could keep it in my car for a while after that, and I never gave it back."

"Yeah? Can I hear it?"

Puck hesitated long enough that Blaine glanced at Finn, who nodded. "It's good," Finn said to Puck. "Really good. And he should hear it, don't you think?"

"I... I guess?" Puck muttered. His face was red, but he didn't object as Blaine slid the CD into the slot in the Navigator's dashboard. Blaine listened with interest as Brad's quiet piano part started up, accompanied by Puck's guitar. Then they began singing.

_Cool on the outside yet trembling inside_  
 _Wanting to run but there's nowhere to hide_  
 _Dancing with your smile, though I drown in your eyes  
_ _Can't resist or ignore, however I try_

_Leading me to ecstasy while leading me astray_  
 _Thought I'd lost all direction when you showed me the way_  
 _I convince myself I shouldn't then my soul says I should  
_ _This twisting romance will come to no good_

"That's Brad, isn't it?" Blaine twisted around in his seat to stare at Puck. "You wrote this?"

"Fuck, guys," Puck moaned, and hid his face in his hand, trying not to smile. "I can't believe you're making me listen to this."

Mercedes' voice caught Blaine by surprise. She sang Kurt's descant with passionate sincerity:

_Sing our song,_  
 _You are music inside me._  
 _Your voice rising, reaching,_  
 _Notes falling_  
 _Like a bead of sweat_  
 _Dripping down my neck._  
 _Your melody burns deep_  
 _Into my soul;_  
 _Only music exists.  
_ _Sing to me._

Then the two melodies entwined, along with a haunting guitar solo. Finn listened as Blaine began to hum along, picking out harmonies of his own. It made him shiver to hear it.

_I gasp for breath from your sensuous touch_  
 _The explosion of uncertainty is hurting too much_  
 _The strangest sensation, how odd is this notion  
_ _That one kiss could be full of such fear and emotion_

_These feelings aren't right, all I know is they're true_  
 _I'm a fallen angel who's landed with you_  
 _My heart skips a beat that lasts for so long  
_ _You're my right kind of wrong_

"God, can we take it out  _now?"_  Puck stabbed the eject button, snatched the CD out of the player and stuffed it in his pocket. "Now I know how Adam feels. I really didn't mean for anyone else to hear that."

"Puck," Finn said, giving him a look. "It's not just anyone. It's  _Blaine._ It's okay."

"Okay." Puck took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Okay. Yeah. You're right."

"That was... really, really good," Blaine promised, reaching behind him for Puck's hand. "Really. You're so talented."

He was gazing at Puck like he was the best thing he'd ever seen - like Puck had promised him entry to the college of his choice, or a trip around the world or something. The love and admiration on his face was clear, and Puck was just as clearly dazzled by it. His embarrassed smile grew and bloomed.

"You're fucking nuts," he said gently, and stroked Blaine's face.

"And  _you're_  not going  _anywhere_  with that CD," Finn warned. "That's Kurt's, and I'm keeping it." He held out his hand until Puck, grumbling, relinquished it, and Finn slid it safely back into the pocket of his CD case.

After that, Finn put in an Indigo Girls disc, and they all sang along for another eighty minutes. When "Kid Fears" came on, Blaine put a hand on Finn's armrest, and Finn took it, holding tight until the song was done, Blaine singing the Michael Stipe part.

"That was a hell of a concert," Finn said into the silence, his eyes on the highway. It was dark out now, the lights on the highway keeping it just bright enough to see the shadows and planes of Blaine's profile. "You remember?"

"Of course," Blaine murmured. "I remember it perfectly."

Finn let the silence stretch for several minutes before he spoke again into the darkness. "It really was," he said. "Perfect. That whole night: the drive to Columbus with Sarah and Frances, all the music, the weather, and you - it was just..." He had to swallow on the knot in his throat, but he made himself go on.

"I don't know if you realize how things had been for me, before I met you. My relationship with Carl was really new, and there was the mess that happened that fall before Sectionals - the fight, and then Puck taking off... everything between me and Kurt and Puck was strained, and things with the two of them and Adam were brand new, too. There were so many changes. I barely knew who I was anymore."

"It wasn't that bad," Puck said, but Finn shook his head.

"It really was," Finn insisted. "I'd lost my confidence. I didn't trust myself to give discipline to  _anyone,_  much less to Puck, or even Kurt. I wasn't doing anything right, and I knew it." He paused, remembering. "And then... you were in the coffeehouse, and I wanted... you needed me, and I... I needed that. I still do." He let his voice drop down to a whisper. "But now I want other things, too."

He felt Puck's hand on his shoulder, and he touched it with his own hand. Blaine didn't speak, but somehow Finn couldn't wait; he couldn't stop himself. His self-control had vanished in the dark of the car, sitting there so close beside two people he loved with all his heart.

"I knew you didn't want more than that from me. But Blaine, it was so  _easy,_  so simple with us. Taking care of you... it was like we'd been doing that together, for our whole lives."

"Like you've always been ours," added Puck. Finn caught his breath.

"Yeah," he whispered hoarsely. "Like home, Blaine."

The silence continued. "Blaine?" Finn reached out to touch his knee, but Blaine didn't move.

"He's asleep," Puck said. "Finn..."

"He has to hear this," Finn insisted, shaking his leg, suddenly desperate. "Blaine. Look at me."  _He hasn't heard a word I've been saying, for way too long now._ "Blaine. Open your eyes."

"Mmmm," Blaine sighed, and shifted in his seat.

"Finn," Puck said again, squeezing Finn's shoulder as he stared at him. He sounded awed. "You really...? Shit, man, you really do."

"If I don't say it now, I'm never going to be able to say it," Finn said. "Blaine? Look at me, baby."

They heard his soft, sleepy murmur in the dark. "You don't call me that."

"No, I haven't... but I'm telling you..." Finn tried to ignore Puck's intense stare from the back. "This, what I'm feeling... it's strong enough, and it means enough, that I should."

It was quiet, and Finn thought maybe Blaine had gone back to sleep. Then he moved again, and Finn heard him shudder out a breath that sounded like a sob.

"Me, and Puck and Kurt, we're staying together," Finn said, low. "We made a promise to each other at New Year's last year, for us to stay a family. Whatever else happens, the three of us, we're going somewhere, but... when I look at you, here, it's like... it's like we're already there." He gripped Blaine's knee hard in his hand. "Do you hear me?"

The noise of the road was nothing compared to the sound of Finn's own heart, pounding in his chest, or Puck's harsh, disbelieving breathing behind him.

"Blaine," he said again, desperate now.

"I hear you," Blaine whispered.

* * *

Finn checked in at the front desk of the motel, using the card his mother had given him, and handed Puck a key.

"I'll park the car, unload the bags and meet you guys up there," he said. "I made sure they gave us two doubles and not a king."

Puck touched his chest. "Are you sure you want that?"

"It's just easier."

"Are you okay?"

"I think so," he said.

Finn considered his phone in his pocket as he walked to the parking lot. He thought about calling Kurt. Telling him… what? He shook his head.  _Probably nothing he doesn't already know. It's not like this is some new guy. This is Blaine. He's already... he's already part of this. Part of the family._

Blaine was speaking to Puck in a low voice when Finn unlocked the door. He set the bags down by the door, but before he could say anything at all, Blaine was there, taking his hand.

"Finn," he said. "Do you remember, after the Indigo Girls concert, in the car? You... you tried to tell me something. And I said I wasn't ready to hear it."

Finn licked dry lips and nodded. "I remember."

Blaine's clear hazel eyes gazed up at him, so open, so trusting. So much the boy Finn knew him to be. "Well... I'm listening now. I swear to you, I am. Sir."

Finn watched, speechless, as Blaine slowly took off his shirt and his jeans.

"Puck," he said, reaching out to him. Puck took his hand. Finn suddenly realized there was only one bed in the room.

"I definitely told them to give us a room with two beds," Finn said.

Puck smiled softly as he shed his own clothes. "Yeah, and we told them we changed our minds. The three of us, we only need one."

"Finn... " Blaine was against him then, sliding his hands under Finn's shirt, and Finn caught his breath as Blaine's fingers brushed against his abdomen. "Please."

There wasn't much Finn wouldn't do for Blaine when he begged for it. Finn kicked his shoes off onto the floor, then unzipped his shorts and wrestled his shirt over his head.

Then he hesitated. "Kurt," he said, like a question.

"You know he wouldn't have a problem with it," Puck said.

He scrambled frantically for something, anything that made sense. He couldn't exactly say  _Carl,_  not since he'd been the one who'd done the breaking-up, after all. "What about… well, what about Rachel?"

Puck chuckled. "Hey, dude, that's your business. She doesn't even know Blaine yet, but somehow, I think she'll deal."

Blaine took both of their hands and stepped backwards toward the bed, leading Finn, keeping contact with his eyes all the way. Puck went ahead of them, propping up the pillows, and positioned himself there, smiling at Finn's wide-eyed recognition of the setting as he took Blaine into his arms.

"Blaine," he breathed, and watched as Blaine shuddered.

"God, Finn," he said, "what I feel when you say my name like that."

"This is really what you want? Like the way it was the first time with me and Kurt and Puck?"

Blaine looked down at Puck, then back up at Finn, and nodded, biting his lip. "I want so many things, with both of you, but tonight… I need you, tonight. Please?"

Finn nodded. "I have your collar in the bag, but… I think it would be good for it to just be this way. For… our first time."

Blaine nodded again. His eyes were enormous.

Puck opened his arms, and Blaine crawled into them, half-lying, half-on his knees, his legs spread wide. Finn reached out one hand and stroked his bare bottom. The position was so familiar, but in this context, it was entirely different. He felt the energy pass between them, and he took a steadying breath.

"Puck," he said, but Puck was already handing him the lube.

"I could get him ready for you, but I figured you'd want to be in charge." Without another word, he turned his head to kiss Blaine's lips.

Finn waited, watching the passion grow between them. He stroked his skin, touching as much of it as he could. Then he covered Blaine's ass with one hand, spreading his fingers, and heard Blaine moan as he landed a slap on the roundest part.

"This isn't because you need a reminder," Finn said, moving his hand up and down Blaine's back before spanking him again. "I'm still in charge, but this isn't discipline." Another swat. "It's because I know you like it, and I want to turn you on."

"Oh my god," Blaine whined. "You do. You really, really do."

Blaine was fully hard and making little panting noises by the time Finn's fingers brushed against his opening, sliding slippery lube over his skin. All his movements were slow, like they were underwater, and the tension wasn't urgent. It was just completely, utterly perfect. He eased one finger, then two inside, and Blaine moaned.

"How does he like it?" Finn asked Puck.

Puck turned to him, smiling.

"Any way you do," he said. "Anything you want, that's what he wants. And he wants to do it right."

Finn couldn't say he was surprised to hear it, but it still affected him, and he had to hold himself up on the bed with his other hand to keep his knees from buckling. "God," he muttered.

"Finn," Blaine called out, pleading. "I need you."

"I'm right here," he said, sliding out his fingers and ripping open the condom. Puck watched him do it with a dubious expression.

"You know you don't really need one of those," he said. "Not with Blaine. We're not using them anymore either. He hasn't been with anybody but us."

"It's our agreement," Finn said stoically. The truth might have been closer to the fact that he didn't think he could last more than a few seconds without a condom. Not with Blaine in Puck's arms, opened wide for him -  _for him._  He took Blaine's hips in both hands. "We can talk about it another day. Tonight... I'm already doing this without full disclosure with Kurt. I don't want to make it any worse."

"It's not bad, is it, Finn?" Blaine's voice was anxious, and Finn leaned over his back, bringing his face down close to the two of them. He kissed Blaine's cheek.

"No, baby," he murmured. "It's not bad. It's just fine."

Blaine called out his name as Finn slid slowly inside him, the intensity raw in his voice as he thrust back against the welcome intrusion.

"That's it," Puck said with satisfaction. "Tell him what you want, baby."

"I want you to fuck me," came the muffled plea, his face buried in Puck's chest.

Finn slid his hands over Blaine's strong back as he pulled out and thrust in again, harder this time, and Blaine cried out again, louder. "Finn — oh, god, yes, yes, like that."

He gave up all pretense of holding back then, letting the energy carry the motion of his hips, forcing Blaine's body into Puck's in a steady, inexorable rhythm. Even with the condom, Finn had to focus, because what he saw before him, what he felt beneath him, was too precious to be real.

"Tell me again this is what you want," he demanded.

"I do, I want it,  _god,_  Finn, wanted this for so long. "

The admission was like a drug. He gritted his teeth, feeling the pressure build. "Tell me you're mine."

"I am - I'm yours, Finn... yours,  _please!"_

"Yours," Puck whispered, gazing up at Finn, eyes shining. His hands were cupped around Blaine's neck, tangled in Blaine's hair. "We're yours."

Finn clutched at Blaine's waist, his hands wrapping around, and let himself go, slamming into him hard. It was going to be quick. He wasn't thinking about Blaine's own pleasure, just  _taking,_  taking what he wanted, without a question if that was okay. He knew it was.

"Oh, baby," he groaned, in the moment of his release, "oh, baby, god, Blaine, love you."

"Love you," Puck repeated, and Blaine echoed, "Love you, Finn, love you so much."

They lay together in the silence that followed that for some time, feeling his heat dissipate. Finn took a moment to ditch the condom and get a glass of water, while Puck and Blaine sat up. They were both still hard, but neither one seemed anxious about taking a break.

When he handed the water to Puck, the relief he felt at his smile was palpable.

"That was okay?" he asked, not because he doubted, but because he wanted Puck to say it so Blaine could hear it.

Puck gave a soft laugh. "Fuck, Finn... yeah, it was way more than  _okay._  Way to fulfill a fantasy."

"Pretty sure that was  _my_  fantasy," Blaine volunteered, his words a little slurred. "I'm the one who asked for it. Wanted this."

"Yeah?" Finn reached for Blaine, gathering him in. "You set that up? It was like you read my mind. I've been wanting that with you since March."

Blaine let out a shuddering sob, resting in Finn's arms. He just held him, ignoring Blaine's erection pressed against his leg.  _This is where he belongs._

"I'm sorry I told you I didn't want it," Blaine cried. "I was just scared, and I didn't want to ruin what we had. I thought you had enough people to worry about. Wanting you like this, when I already had —  _so much,_  felt like the most selfish thing in the world."

"You get that we  _want_  to take care of you?" Puck said. He pressed his face against Blaine's shoulder. "Nothing selfish in asking for what we want to do anyway."

"Shhhh," Finn whispered, kissing his cheek. Blaine turned his head immediately to accept the kiss with his lips, still as hungry as he'd been minutes before. "You're going to ask, no matter how selfish it feels."

Blaine spoke the words against his mouth, his breath hot and quick. "Yes, sir."

Hearing him say it made Puck let out a growl. "If you're going there now, I'm going to need to be on top."

Finn had to wonder if Blaine was going to be too sore for more, but the way he moved rapidly to let Puck climb over him, bringing his legs up and spreading them wide, maybe he wouldn't be. In any case, it didn't appear that he was going to complain.

"Yeah." Puck let his hands roam across Blaine's body, making little noises of satisfaction and enjoyment as he went. He avoided Blaine's cock, but ran his hand up the center of Blaine's torso, beginning at his navel and ending with it wrapped around his neck. Blaine gasped, tipping his head back. "I know what you want."

Finn had watched Puck do this before, enough times to know he could do it. He stretched out beside him on the bed, still within kissing distance of Blaine's mouth, and rested his hand on Puck's shoulder. Puck grinned at him.

"We're cool?" Puck said.  _Asking for permission to take what's yours, sir._

Finn smiled back. "Oh, yeah. We are so cool."

It might be familiar between them, sharing another person, but Finn knew it was still very new for Blaine. He nodded at Blaine's mildly anxious expression.

"I took what I needed, baby. Let Puck take care of you now." He trailed fingers down Blaine's arm, just because he  _could._  He could do… anything he wanted to do. It made him giddy. To Puck, he added, "You could put his collar on him. I bet he'd like that."

"I'll do that when I have cuffs and something to chain him to." Puck slid his hand up to grip Blaine's curls, yanking his head back until his back arched and he thrust back against Puck's body. "You wanna hold him down while I make him get loud?"

Finn's smile widened as Blaine moaned. "Oh, so he gets loud?"

"You mean you haven't heard him through Kurt's door?" Puck leaned over Blaine, digging his teeth into Blaine's shoulder and working his way up toward his neck. Blaine's wordless cries escalated into breathless, tumbling pleas. "Then there was that night you slept on the air mattress on the floor…"

"Yeah, okay. I've heard him." Finn shifted slowly above him until he was kneeling above his head on the edge of the bed. Puck shifted Blaine down on the bed to make more room for Finn, passing Blaine's hands up and over his head. Finn grasped his wrists and held them down as Blaine writhed and panted.

"Yeah, we thought you might have. I think Blaine was louder when he knew you were listening."

"Oh god," Blaine whispered. His hips bucked once, and Puck shifted his position to force them flat onto the bed. Finn stretched his arms wider, enjoying the experience of being Blaine's restraints.

"I guess I should come clean about that, then." Finn leaned in and whispered in Blaine's ear. "Hearing you make those noises, that night in Kurt's rooms… I had to spend a little time by myself after that. In the bathroom."

"Oh  _god."_  Puck was right. Blaine was loud. Finn decided not to be embarrassed by potential listening neighbors in nearby motel rooms, and focused on trying the biting thing on Blaine's earlobe. The wailing noise Blaine made sounded like success to him. His giddy feeling gave way to triumph.

Puck raised himself up on his hands and knees, looking down at Blaine, who was squirming a little but not really struggling to get away from Finn's teeth. "You got him, man? I've got some business to take care of down here."

As soon as Puck descended on him, Blaine grew very still, quivering. His noises didn't stop, though they became more breathy and focused. He turned his head to face Finn, straining to reach him with his lips.

"I've got him," Finn said. He smiled into his blown pupils. "Love you so much."

"God," Blaine moaned, "I don't — hearing you say that, I can't even — "

"Yes, you can." He kissed Blaine softly, gently, over and over on his lips, his cheek, his temple. "You're going to have to. We're going to make you. I mean… what did you think  _ours_  meant, anyway?"

"Please," he begged, "please, I want — kiss me, oh my god—"

Finn managed to capture Blaine's mouth as his body launched up off the bed. Blaine's plea escalated into a wail, driven by Puck's lips and tongue and the warm, slick channel of his mouth.

"That's it," said Finn. He didn't think he'd ever be able to stop smiling. "Yeah. I think we'll be doing a lot of  _this_  over the next couple days. Hope that's okay with you?"

Blaine nodded. When Blaine's hips started to move a little too much for his liking, Finn slid one hand down to put pressure on them, restraining him there, too.  _Blaine in restraints,_  he thought dreamily.  _Blaine, in restraints, for me to play with._

"You're sure?" he asked again, and once again Blaine nodded, looking up at him. It felt impossible. He knew he could ask for permission a dozen times, a million times, and no matter how many times Blaine would say  _yes, I want this,_  it would still feel impossible. But he was going to do his very best to make sure that Blaine knew just what it meant to him.

"This," he whispered in Blaine's ear. "The way you are with me, and with Kurt, and with Puck. That's what we want. You're part of us, baby." It felt so good to  _say_  it, after all this time holding back, he just said it again. "Baby, my baby. My good boy, Blaine."

It wasn't all that different from the way Blaine fell apart from a spanking, really. All the tension fell out of him and he cried hard, even as he was coming into Puck's mouth. Finn kept whispering through the whole thing,  _my baby, my good boy, love you._  He knew this moment was the best chance he had of Blaine absorbing it.

Then he reached down and tugged Puck up into a kiss, partly to thank him, and partly just to kiss him, but mostly because he really wanted to know what Blaine tasted like on Puck's lips. It made him smile all over again.

"Dude," he murmured, "it's really hard to smile and kiss at the same time. Too much smiling."

"Sorry," Puck said. "Not actually sorry."

They curled up on either side of Blaine, kissing him. Finn decided he'd try throwing one leg over him, holding him firm and close. That made Blaine cry again. He dug his face into Finn's neck, muffling the sounds.

"You're actually trying to be quiet now?" Finn said. "Think that ship has sailed, baby. But it's cool. You can be as loud as you want."

"I'm happy," he sobbed, and Puck giggled, draping his arm over Blaine's chest. Now Blaine was really, actually restrained, and that did seem to be helping calm him down.

"I'm usually the one freaking out at the end of this shit," said Puck. He reached across Blaine to the end table and grabbed the box of tissues, holding one to his nose despite Blaine's protests. "Yes, I'm doing this. Shut up and blow."

Blaine did, and then Puck wiped his eyes with a clean tissue, after which he appeared to be done crying. He just lay back and stared up at the ceiling, his red eyes wide and breathing through his mouth.

"I was trying to say that I am so  _happy,"_  he said, his voice still wobbling, "but — I'm thinking about fall. And I don't want to go back to Dalton. I just want to stay with you. In your new house. In your bed. Beds."

"Yeah, you can totally do that?" said Puck. "Except for the part where you still have to go back to Dalton. Sorry. I'd say drop out of school, but Puck and Kurt already told me I can't do that, and I think you're gonna get the same message."

"You can come visit on the weekends," said Finn.

Blaine turned to him. "Have you decided what you want to do about the band?"

"I'm thinking I won't be coming down to Irene's. But maybe… maybe we can practice at our house. Or, I don't even know, at Carl's."

"I'm sorry about that. I know it's going to be hard, no matter what."

He ran a careful hand over all the parts of Blaine he'd never deliberately touched: his nipples, his navel, the curve of his hip, his cock, the inside of his thigh. Blaine just shifted toward his hand, like a flower opening to the sun, and he smiled harder. "You know, I just can't feel bad about  _anything_  right now. This is too good. Maybe in a couple days we can talk about how much it sucks, but… not right now."

"It  _doesn't_  suck," Blaine said emphatically. He splayed his fingers over Finn's, clutching his hand to his chest. With his other hand, he reached for Puck's. "It's — not even close to that. It's amazing. I'm so selfish, I just never want to stop having this."

"I know just what you mean." Puck gazed across Blaine's chest at Finn as he spoke. "But what the hell? Why would you have to?"

"I don't know." Blaine sighed. "Because things change? Because you never know what might happen or when? Because — I feel guilty for being happy when other people aren't."

"You mean Dave," said Finn. Blaine nodded. "Well, it was his choice to come see you last week. He knew we'd be there. If he wants to be your friend, he's going to deal with us."

Blaine turned his head to look at him. "You don't think that's selfish, asking other people to deal with my unconventional choices?"

"What?" said Puck scornfully. "Fuck that."

"No, I get it," Finn said. "It's how you were raised. You keep the peace, don't make too much noise. Make responsible choices."

"Yeah." Blaine laughed unhappily. "And I kind of stink at it."

Puck kissed his cheek, a big defiant  _smack._ "Well, even if you feel like you have to do that out there, when you're  _in here,_  with us, you don't. You get to be as fucking selfish as you want. You think you can deal with that?"

"I think so." He smiled at Puck. "It's kind of a closet, isn't it? Being out with your family, but not with anyone else."

Puck shrugged. "Yeah. It's a pretty big one, though."

"I think it's worth it," said Blaine, "if I get to have you. And you."

Eventually being cold and sticky got too uncomfortable in the air-conditioned motel room, and Puck managed to get Blaine off the bed and into the shower.

"I'll be there in a minute," Finn told them, kissing them both, and then again, rolling his eyes at his own reluctance to be away from them.  _Five feet and one door away for ten minutes… I can deal with that._

Then he picked up the phone and called Kurt. It was late enough that he thought he might have to hang up and try again, because he wasn't going to talk about this in a voice mail, but Kurt picked up after the third ring.

" _Don't tell me you're out of gas,"_  Kurt said, yawning,  _"because I'm absolutely not coming down to rescue you. You're going to have to hitchhike."_

"Gas tank full," said Finn. "Everything okay at home?"

" _School shopping accomplished. I managed to talk Sarah into buying some skirts from this season's collection, in addition to the vintage items she picked out in Findlay. And we've got the final walkthrough of the house on Thursday. By the time you get back, it'll be time to paint and install the floors. Ready to earn your labor credit?"_

"Totally. Doing something would be good." Finn closed his eyes and let the sounds of the shower and Blaine and Puck's voices fill his ears. "Kurt… something happened."

" _Oh."_ He paused, then asked, " _Bad or good?"_

"Good," said Finn. He blinked hard. "Really good."

" _Oh,"_  Kurt said again, and this time, he was smiling. Finn could hear it.  _"That's a relief. Maybe lead with that next time. Do I need to play 20 Questions, or do I get the details up front?"_

"I'm not sure I can say it all at once, but… I told Blaine how I felt."

" _Yes. And he…?"_

Finn grabbed one of the tissues from the box. "He wants it. All of it — all of  _us_. The things we want, he wants them too. I'm just sorry you're not here, because we're —" He paused, feeling stupidly embarrassed, but Kurt leapt into the space.

" _No, no way. You've been waiting all summer for this — longer, really. I think you need to remember we all want_ _ **you**_ _to be happy as much as we want Blaine."_  He sighed, and it sounded happy, too.  _"So please, green, go, go. Anything you want with him is okay."_

"All right." He felt the smile stretching across his whole face, pinching his cheeks toward his ears. "There you go, being all generous and awesome. I might have to not-propose all over again."

" _You already know what my answer is, Finn."_

"Yeah, I know. I just wish you were here. This bed's as big as the one on Toby's third floor."

Kurt groaned. " _Well, that's very… inspirational."_

"Yeah." Finn gave his cock a squeeze, feeling himself respond. "You're totally here with us in spirit."

" _You've been making love to me ten thousand miles away?"_  Kurt quoted. " _How tantalizing."_

He laughed. "I thought  _I_  was Sabine. Are we going to read the third book or what?"

" _Finn, we're living our own story. I think that's better than anything we can read by Nick Bantock. Go be with Noah and Blaine. I love you."_

"All right, baby. I love you too. We'll call you in the morning."

Finn's first impulse when he pulled aside the shower curtain and saw Blaine on his knees, Puck's hand in his wet hair, was to close it again and wait until they were done. But Puck drew him in with a smile and an outstretched hand, and Finn took a moment to remind himself that  _yes,_  this was okay, and  _yes,_  Blaine wanted him there.

Blaine didn't stop what he was doing, but he tilted his head to watch Finn as he climbed over the tub, looking remarkably hungry for someone who'd just come twice in less than an hour. It lent fuel to the fire Kurt had lit, and Finn squeezed himself again. He felt somewhat shy to be doing that in front of Blaine, but Blaine watched him closely, making hopeful, encouraging noises around Puck's cock in his mouth.

"You're not going to get all that clean just standing there in the water," Finn said to Puck. "I'll wash you if you want."

"No," said Puck, watching Finn's hand on himself. "I think I want you to keep doing just what you're doing. Maybe from over here."

It sounded a lot less like a request than Finn was used to hearing from Puck, but at the moment, he wasn't about to argue with him or try to wrest control away. Carefully, he edged across the tub to stand right beside him, his hip close enough to bump against Puck's ass.

Now Blaine was looking up at both of them, shifting his gaze back and forth between the two of them as he worked Puck's cock with his mouth. Puck let out a quiet groan of approval. Finn squeezed himself harder.

"Big," Blaine said with a gasp, letting Puck go for a moment. He leveled his eyes just below Finn's waist, where his hand was wrapped around himself. "Finn, I had no idea you were so… proportional."

Finn laughed. "That's a word for it, I guess. And didn't you feel it, when I was inside you?"

"I felt it." Blaine adjusted his position on the floor of the tub, putting a hand on Finn's thigh. "Can I…?"

"Yeah, definitely, you can do that."

It was miraculous, watching Blaine's mouth slip over the head of his cock, taking in as much as he could handle. Finn zoned out a little, watching him. He reached over and slid a hand over Puck's butt and into the cleft of his ass, giving him a little wiggling friction. The noise Puck made seemed to inspire Blaine as much as Finn, and he shifted in closer, taking Finn deeper into his throat. Finn stroked a wondrous hand over Blaine's wet curls.

"I talked to Kurt. He said he was happy for all of us, and that we should… that Blaine was…" He couldn't resist another moan. "Baby…"

"He told us to forget the condoms?" Puck said. "Probably a good thing, since we just used the last one anyway." He rubbed the head of his cock against Blaine's cheek until Blaine turned his mouth back to take it again, looking dreamily pleased. "Fuck, you look so good."

Blaine went back and forth like that, sucking each of them in turn, for such a long time that Finn started to wonder if the shower would run out of hot water. He pulled back far enough to rub soap over each of them and let the water sluice it away.

"Maybe we should go back to bed," he said to Puck.

"Your call." Puck put his lips to Finn's ear, speaking quietly. "He would do anything you want."

"Yeah, I know." It was a hot thought, but more than that, it made him unreasonably sappy. "I think… I really just want to, you know. Hold on to both of you."

Blaine stood up, his knees a little wobbly, and nodded. "Yes, please."

They were all mostly quiet as they dried each other off, stopping every few seconds to kiss and touch and fondle one another again. None of it felt particularly urgent, even though they were all still hard.

Finn ran his fingers over the skin of Blaine's throat, watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. He bent to put his lips there, kissing his throat gently until Blaine whimpered.

"You know this is going to change everything," he said.

Blaine tipped his eyes up to look into Finn's, suddenly tense, then across at Puck, whose eyes were already closed. "How so?"

"You want to stay with us," said Finn. "But, dude, are we really going to be able to fit  _four_  in any bed in existence?"

Blaine relaxed, laughing. His smile went on for ages. Finn pulled him close, just as he'd promised, and Puck crowded in on the other side. Puck yawned first, then Blaine followed suit, and finally Finn, resting his head close to Blaine's skin.

"We can't be the only one in the universe to ever do this," Blaine said drowsily. "Don't you think?"

"There are other foursomes out there," Puck said, his eyes still closed. "I was in one, for a while, with a guy and two girls in Santa Fe."

"So how do they all fit? Is there a bed made for four?"

"I guess that's something we can figure out," Finn said. He stroked Blaine's shoulder until he closed his eyes, too. "We're going to make it work."

"I trust you," Blaine murmured. "All of you."

* * *

<http://youtu.be/nKI4fhr7icM> 

_There is no one else around the road is quiet, the only sound_  
 _Is wind that sounds like cars that sound like breathing_  
 _The desert air is hot and dry two lanes weaving earth and sky_  
 _The stars are all that's keeping time till morning_  
 _And I turn and look beside me and you're sleeping like a baby  
_ _And you haven't heard a word that I've been saying_

_And the way you look tonight fast asleep in the dashboard light_  
 _Well I can't speak  
_ _That's how I feel_

_Open your eyes and look at me and look at me_  
 _Open your eyes and look at me_  
 _'Cause I have and hold this love for you_  
 _Before this ten year night is through, I'm telling you  
_ _Take it from me, take it from me_

_Going eighty on the highway_  
 _We're all rushing somewhere_  
 _But the way I feel tonight  
_ _It's like I'm already there_

_\- Lucy Kaplansky, "Ten Year Night"_


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, but there's so, so much more story left to tell. Some of it has been written already — see [Dance on a Narrow Ledge](http://archiveofourown.org/works/485768) for the following summer's adventure, and the WIP [Love is Careless in its Choosing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1044278) for two years later — but I have at least two more Donutverse stories left to write before my muses will shut up. The next one chronologically is the season 2 story, which centers on Puck and the rest of the boys, titled [Any Minute Now](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6232906). The other is Finn's present story, which I'm already writing and involves Roderick and lots of other familiar supporting characters from the Donutverse. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's still reading. I invite you to [follow me on Tumblr](http://nubianamy.tumblr.com/) for Donutverse commentary. I'm always taking requests for short stories if there's anything in particular you want to see. 
> 
> -amy

Kurt turned from gazing out the south window of his dad's office when he heard Blaine clear his throat softly. He smiled, holding out one arm to welcome him.

"It's a much nicer view than I expected it to be." He gestured at the front yard, which was still only partially finished. At the moment, it was alive with guests, most of them from the cast, all of them smiling and laughing as they milled around the property. Puck was wielding his grill tongs with authority, laughing at something Finn was saying. Sarah was tearing through the yard with Frances, who was finally home from summer camp, while Lauren followed with somewhat less enthusiasm. Toby was tossing a ball to Annie, and she was running after it and bringing it back amidst a whole lawn full of distractions. Carole and his dad weren't in sight, but the yard was big enough that that wasn't surprising.

Blaine drew closer to Kurt, sliding his arm around his waist with a gentle sigh.

"It's going to be a beautiful home," he said.

"It won't be completely finished before school. But I think we'll be motivated to get it all done before it gets too cold." He gave Blaine a squeeze. "What's the matter, honey?"

"You're okay with me being here, with you?" Blaine nodded at the window hesitantly. "This is pretty public."

Kurt smiled, keeping him close. "No more public than we've been all summer in Cleveland."

"Well, that was different. That was  _theater._ " He sounded almost indignant. "But here… we're in Lima. I don't think we can really be… out about this relationship. Not about the way it really is, with the four of us."

"Not at school," Kurt agreed. "Not until my dad says it's okay for us to be open about me and Finn. Sarah's adoption should be final within the next year, and then we'll see. But here?" He nodded at the yard. "All of these people already know about me and Finn and Puck. They wouldn't be shocked about you."

"Even so." Blaine rested his head on Kurt's shoulder, gazing out the window with him. "This is a big deal. I want to handle it the right way."

"Well, if you're not sure what that is, we can help you." Kurt brushed Blaine's cheek with his lips. "You're our boy… and this is our home. Here, you belong with us. Okay?"

Blaine nodded, still leaning against him, and the whispered  _yes sir_  was faint but definitely present. Kurt smiled in satisfaction.

"Well, isn't this domestic," purred Shelby. They turned to see Puck following her into the library. He took Beth's carrier from her hands and unbuckled her, lifting her into his arms.

"Hi, Shelby," Blaine said. Kurt knew Blaine still wasn't sure about her, but he wouldn't say anything less than polite in front of either her or Puck.

"Nice," she said, nodding, as she admired the sunny library. "The shelves are beautiful. This place almost makes me want to rethink home ownership."

"Plenty of crash space," Puck said cheerfully. When he crossed the room with Beth, Blaine automatically shifted into his orbit. Puck took his hand, and Blaine smiled, his eyes going soft. "Not that you're gonna be able to use it much once you're back at work."

"Yes, well." She crossed her arms with a little smile, watching Puck holding Beth. "I think it's time to talk to you about that."

Puck gave her a skeptical sneer. "You think you're gonna talk me out of quitting school, too? I'll tell you, Finn and Kurt have been trying to do that all summer, and so far, I still haven't heard one good solution. I'm not putting her into fucking day care."

"I'm not proposing day care," she said evenly, still smiling. Puck paused, watching her warily.

"Okay… so what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking I'm going to stay home with her."

They all swiveled their heads to look at Shelby. She looked completely serious. Puck furrowed his brow.

"You're quitting your job?" he said. Now he sounded uncertain. Kurt moved to stand on the other side of him, touching his elbow between them.

"I'm taking a year off. I have tenure, so that means I can get my job back when I'm done." She nodded at them. "I can't watch you quit high school, Noah. You only have two more years. I know you hate it, but it'll afford you so many more choices if you can just stick it out."

"That's very generous of you," said Kurt.

"Hardly." Her smile grew. "I screwed up my last two kids' lives. I'm ready to do this right. Parenting looks really different from this side of thirty."

"Who's going to coach Vocal Adrenaline?" Blaine asked.

"Toby and I are will be conducting interviews starting next week. We don't have a whole lot of say in who gets hired, but at least we'll try to find someone competent." She turned to the door. "We'll talk more about it later, Noah. Thanks again, Kurt. You have a lovely home."

Puck watched her go in astonished silence. He scratched his head. "Fuck."

"Gift horse, Noah," Kurt said. He kissed his cheek. "If she's serious about this, it'll solve everything, at least for this year."

"Yeah, I guess it will." He brightened a little. "You think I could convince her to move to Lima?"

Kurt frowned. He paced the perimeter of the room. All he could think about was how that would change things for them. "I don't know if that's the answer. You don't want her thinking she's got full custody of Beth just because you'll still be in school."

Puck grinned. "Hey, look who's looking out for Beth now?"

Kurt felt himself go a little pink, but he held his head straight as he walked. "Of course I am. You're my boy, aren't you?"

"Fucking right I am," he said. He followed Kurt's progress, ending on the doorway to the kitchen, and sighed. "Man. This place is going to need a lot of work."

"Good thing we have a dedicated house slave to handle it all."

Puck didn't even blink. "Yeah, but I wasn't planning on going back to school, right? I'm gonna have to dig in this week and get things unpacked and set up in the kitchen before football practice starts again." He paused, looking over at Kurt. "Uh, if that's okay with you?"

Kurt held out a hand, and Puck took it. "If you want to play football, you can do that. I don't think things need to change just because of your place in this household."

"But it hasn't exactly been that way this summer, has it?" He looked over at Blaine, who had remained quiet through this whole exchange, and shrugged somewhat apologetically. "I haven't really been like that much at all."

"Sweetheart…" Kurt gathered them both in close. With Beth in the middle, it was a little crowded, but it didn't feel bad. "Blane's going back to Dalton. It's not going to be easy for any of us. I think you need to expect you're going to need that  _more,_  not less." He turned to Blaine. "You too. You'll need Finn to come out to Columbus, or we'll bring you back here, every weekend you can get away."

Blaine smiled at him. He was visibly calmer than he had been at the beginning of their conversation. "It sounds like you have everything figured out."

"Hardly. But I'm ready to do whatever it takes to make it work." Kurt gave them one last squeeze, then stepped back, still holding their hands. "I think it's time for us to rejoin the party."

* * *

The whole gathering moved inside after lunch, everyone wielding paintbrushes and bearing cans of paint. Finn wasn't surprised to watch Kurt being very much in charge of everyone, demonstrating how to make a nice neat edge along the blue painter's tape he'd put up the night before. Darius volunteered to manage the paint spray gun.

"I've paid my rent with more than one contracting job," he told Kurt. "I'll give you a nice even coat."

Mr. Schue daubed a little more paint along the baseboard. "So, Finn, now that it's over I feel like I can ask you: how'd summer school go?"

"Great," Finn said. "Ms. Holliday was awesome."

Too late, he had second thoughts about being so enthusiastic about Ms. Holliday in front of Mr. Schue, but he didn't seem upset by it. "I know, isn't she?" he said, smiling. "I hear she's going to stick around Lima while she goes to school herself."

"Is that right?" Toby sounded surprised. "I lost touch with her over the summer."

"Did you meet the new gym teacher?" Finn asked. "She's coaching football."

" _She?"_  Puck looked stricken. "No way."

"I'm not going to judge," Finn told him. "I've… heard good things about her."

Toby tapped Darius on the ankle as he worked his way around the baseboard. "I'm surprised you stuck around this long. Aren't you on your way out of town?"

"Hey, I couldn't miss the party," Darius said.

Mr. Schue paused, crouching back on his heels with a sober expression.

"Where are you off to?" he asked. "What's the next adventure?"

"Casting calls in Chicago, first. If none of them pan out, I'll head west. It's easier in the fall to be in Hollywood. I'll do commercials if I have to."

"Commercials?" Kurt said, making a face. Darius laughed.

"They pay the bills. Don't knock that. Being a performer's all about filling in the gaps between moments of genius." He grinned, looking serene. "I don't think of it so much as selling my soul as promoting my potential."

"Well, my house has more rooms than a Holiday Inn," said Toby, "and it's a damn sight cheaper. Come back and visit any time."

Inexplicably, Darius shot Mr. Schue an amused look. Mr. Schue just nodded.

"Any time," he echoed softly. "Sure."

Darius' smile gleamed. "Can't promise it'll be soon, but the offer's appreciated."

With the help of two dozen volunteers, the first coat of paint was on the walls in short order. They propped the windows open to help it dry and returned to the yard while Puck got his guitar from his case.

Blaine seemed extra nervous, watching the crowd milling around the yard, but he settled down when Puck pulled him over to sit beside him. "You're going to sing, right?" Puck asked.

Blaine let out a breath, laughing. "Anything except songs from RENT."

Puck smiled, strumming a rhythmic introduction. "No problem. How about this one?"

_You think I'm pretty without any makeup on  
_ _You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong…_

Blaine joined in on the second line, and Kurt on the third. Finn just stood behind Kurt and watched the three of them sing with what he knew was a stupid smile on his face. When Blaine flubbed the second verse, he and Puck both cracked up, but they kept singing, tucking in a few lines of improv that made Kurt snort with laughter.

 _My house,_  thought Finn.  _My family_. He wanted to give all of them a big kiss right there, but it was almost as good just to stand there and listen to the applause as they finished.

"You guys are going someplace," said the guy who'd played Mark. Kurt beamed at him, not even pretending to be modest.

"I'm expecting to hear about your admission to Tisch or NYADA in a couple years," called Toby.

"Hey, you can have it," said Puck, waving a hand. "No way I'm going for  _more_  school." But he was smiling too, and his hand was on Blaine's knee, and Blaine looked about as happy as Finn had ever seen him.

"Blackbird," said Finn.

Puck glanced up in surprise, nodding, and strummed the opening bars. Blaine and Kurt came in promptly, singing in unison on the melody:

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_  
_All your life  
_ _You were only waiting for this moment to arrive_

It was like that, Finn thought. The best parts of the whole summer had been those moments in which they were together, the four of them. RENT had been a rush, and the experience at Adam's concert more incredible than he could have expected, but Finn was pretty sure they all would agree with him.  _I was only waiting for this moment to arrive._

He didn't even notice the car pull up until the driver was halfway up the gravel driveway. Kurt saw him at nearly the same time as Finn did.

"Dave," he said, quietly enough that only Finn could hear him.

Dave looked somewhat resigned to being out of place, glancing around himself at the cast of  _RENT_ surrounding him. When Kurt moved out of the circle of singers and listeners and toward Dave, Finn went too, circling around the edge of the yard beside the flower garden.

Dave took a couple steps back at Kurt's approach, leaving a space between them.

"Honestly, I didn't think you'd show," Kurt was saying.

"Fair enough," Dave said, staring at his shoes. "I didn't think I would either."

Kurt nodded. "Well… I'm glad you did. I'm sure I'm not the only one."

Dave sent his gaze across the yard, taking in Blaine and Puck, who hadn't noticed Dave. They'd moved on to  _I'll Follow the Sun._  Finn could hear Puck singing the harmony line he usually sang. It sounded perfect.

"There's no way I can compete with that, Kurt," Dave said. He spoke gently, like he was talking to a little child and he didn't want to frighten him.

Kurt paused, then gave a little shake of his head. "There's no competition here. Whoever you are to Blaine, that's not affected by who Noah is to Blaine — or who I am, or Finn." Dave held his mouth in a straight, firm line until Kurt added, "He misses  _you,_  Dave."

"Fuck," he muttered, swiping at his eyes in annoyance. "I promised myself I wouldn't do this."

"You want to come in the house?" Finn said. "Nobody's in there. Might smell like paint, though."

"No. No. I didn't come here to hide from — anybody." Dave took a fortifying breath and let it out.

"How about something to drink?" Kurt reached out and took Dave's hand. Dave looked at it like it might damage him if he weren't careful.

"You don't have to baby me, Kurt."

Kurt tilted his head. "Is that how it feels?"

"Yeah, a little." But Dave didn't seem any happier to have Kurt let his hand go. He looked over his shoulder at his car parked along Bellefontaine. "Maybe this was a mistake."

"Dude," Finn said. "You've been gone all summer. Just stay and have a Coke, all right?"

Dave trailed behind them, both hands in his pockets. It was really too warm for a jacket, but Finn knew how wearing his varsity armor made him feel, and he wasn't going to pick on Dave if he needed a little extra protection.

Mr. Schue was clearly surprised to see Dave join the circle, but no one else blinked. Most of them didn't know who he was, anyway. Puck gave Dave a nod and kept on playing. When Blaine stopped singing, Kurt took over his part.

With the music going on all around them, Blaine sidled up to Dave and touched his shoulder, a questioning look on his face.

"I'm not singing," Dave muttered, staring defiantly at Blaine.

"That's fine," said Blaine. He looped one arm through Dave's and squeezed, just for a moment, before letting go. Dave was already red in the face, but he didn't scowl or run away, which Finn figured was a win. Kurt put a Coke in Dave's hand, and he stood there beside Blaine and sipped it and listened to him sing the rest of the song.

There was a little applause when they were done. Puck lowered his guitar. "Hey, Karofsky. You gonna help us out with the painting or what?"

"If you need that, sure," said Dave. "I can pitch in."

"We've got to wait at least another couple hours before we can do the next coat," Finn said. "But there's wood flooring to lay in the front hall and on the upstairs landing."

He nodded, looking a little more settled. "Yeah, okay."

Toby led a crew of  _RENT_ cast members into the kitchen to begin laying tile while Kurt's dad showed the rest of them how to fit the planks of oak flooring together. Dave worked in silence beside the rest of them, staying close enough to hear directions, but not close enough to touch anybody. His eyes were as much on Blaine as on the task at hand, but the flooring seemed to come out all right anyway.

"Nice house," was Dave's only comment.

"Thanks," said Finn. "Want a tour?"

Dave leaned back on his heels, regarding Finn with a perplexed expression. "Sure?"

<http://tinyurl.com/donutverse-house> 

 

He followed Finn into the upstairs hallway, walking through each of the bedrooms in turn. Finn indicated the room to the left at the top of the stairs. "Here's Kurt's, and mine."

Dave peered in at the adjoining bathroom. "This is… convenient."

Finn grinned at the disgruntled envy in his voice. "Kurt and Sarah share a bathroom right now. She'll get her own bathroom here. I think she deserves it, considering she designed the place. Anyway, she's going to be the last one here once we're out of school."

"I can't believe your mom…" Dave shook his head, walking with Finn up the two steps to the loft space under the south-facing windows. It was already warm in there, even with the vaulted ceilings. He lowered his voice. "I mean, she does  _know_  about the two of you, right?"

"Yeah, she knows. I kind of suck at keeping secrets." He opened the door to the left. "This one's Puck's apartment, with space for Beth."

Dave looked across Puck's room to the back staircase and the room beyond. "I dunno, man." He eyed Finn up and down. "I think you might be better at secrets than me. And that's saying something."

"Yeah, but I really don't  _want_  to keep them. I just want to have everything be normal."

Dave's eyebrows went way up. "Normal?"

"Okay, maybe I don't mean normal. Regular, stable. _Safe._ " He didn't back away from where Dave was standing. It would have been close enough to seem threatening, four months ago, but Finn didn't feel like that about Dave anymore. "Puck had a hell of a year, you know?"

Dave nodded slowly. "And now… he's like a different person."

"But he's not," Finn said. "He's acting different, but the different person was the person he was pretending to be. Now, he's the person he's  _supposed_  to be. The one that makes him the best, for everybody."

"For Blaine, you mean." His voice was soft.

"For Blaine, for Kurt. For me. For himself, and everybody who gives a shit about him. His sister - you have no idea what it's been like." Finn closed his eyes for a minute, trying to reconcile all of it. When he opened them again, Dave was studying him with curiosity.

"So, what is this?" he said.

"What's what?"

"This," Dave said, gesturing at them and the unfinished room impatiently. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I don't know. Kurt seems to think you've earned it." Finn cocked his head. "Don't you think you have?"

" _No."_  Dave's voice shook, and his hands went around his arms to hold on. It was a familiar gesture. "No, I fucking do not deserve it. Not from him, most of all. Or you, or Puck, or Blaine."

Finn walked across the loft to the door on the opposite side from Puck's. He pushed it open wider, letting the air flow through from the west window. Then he turned back to Dave. "Kurt read me some of that book you gave him. The one about the girl with the daemon."

After a moment, Dave nodded. "Okay?"

"He said you liked the armored bear guy."

"Yeah, Iorek." He shrugged. "Maybe I have a thing about bears."

"He kind of sucked when Lyra met him, didn't he, though?"said Finn. "He was drunk and powerless and he'd killed another bear out of anger. And Lyra rescued him anyway."

"Well, that's because she returned his armor," began Dave, then stopped, looking at the floor.

"His armor. That's like his soul, right? Like the daemons were for everybody else. Without it, he can't be his best self." Finn waited, but Dave didn't say anything. "You think Lyra shouldn't have given back his armor? That maybe he didn't deserve it?"

"I don't know."

"Dude, Iorek became  _king._  He saved the bears from that bad bear guy. What the hell would have happened to his people if he hadn't?"

Dave shook his head. "I'm not a fucking king, Finn."

"Pretty sure Iorek wouldn't have thought so either, without Lyra believing in him. Right?" He tapped the door. "I want you to know something about Blaine."

Dave's eyes came up in confusion. "Blaine?"

"Yeah. This is kind of his room." He looked into the space, the big corner windows. "A guest room, really, but… I think he needs a place to be. To feel safe. Last year… he was taking drugs, Dave."

"Oh, shit." He looked horrified. "What was it?"

"Coke. He's been clean since spring. He's managing it, but I don't know how it's going to be in the fall. I've got a guy at Dalton watching out for him, but… he could use all his friends doing that."

Dave swallowed. "Okay. Yeah. Thanks for telling me."

"He wouldn't have. I know he's trying to put it behind him. I guess his dad's pretty awful, and he needs to be able to rely on something."

"His dad's an asshole," Dave said. His eyes flashed with anger. "But he holds the purse strings. He bribed Blaine with this fucking prep school, and now Blaine has to do everything he says."

"I can't do anything about his dad. All I can do is give him a place to be himself." He nodded at Dave. "I guess that's what Kurt wants for you, too."

Dave took a little step back, looking away. "Yeah, I guess. You think we should get back to finishing that floor? We've still got all the stairs to do."

After that, Dave didn't have much to say to Finn, but Finn saw him talking quietly with Blaine as they worked, and later laughing with Kurt. Some of the cast of  _RENT_  took off mid-afternoon, but most of them stayed to work on laying the wood flooring after Toby's group finished the tile in the kitchen. Finn half-hoped Carl would stop by, but he was a little relieved when he didn't.

He did get a different call around dinner, though, when they were stopped for a pizza break. Puck must have seen the look on his face, because he came over to Finn and whispered, "Who's that?"

"My cousin," Finn said, grinning, putting a hand over the phone. "Hey, get Blaine, would you? He's gonna like this."

Puck tore Blaine away from the conversation he was having with Darius and dragged him over to where Finn was sitting on the drop cloth by the banister. They both watched Finn with curiosity until he handed the phone to Puck. Puck put it to his ear.

"I think I can guess which cousin," Puck drawled into the phone. "Hey. Guess what? We sang your song today."

"Oh my god." Blaine laughed, covering his mouth in astonishment. "I knew I should have asked permission…"

"Yeah, we've been singing it all over the place. My boyfriend wants to do it with his show choir this fall. No, not him, a different guy. He's awesome, though." Puck's eyes danced at Blaine. "No, cuter."

Blaine hid his eyes, his face red. "Jesus."

"Okay, I'll tell him. You want to say goodbye to Finn?… Okay. The first download will totally be me. Yeah, I'll see you." He handed the phone back to Finn.

"Next week," Finn said. "Her new album comes out. It's called  _Teenage Dream."_

Puck turned to Blaine. "She says you can do it, but we should call back to figure out the copyright permission stuff. Like, they haven't even printed sheet music or anything." He shrugged. "And who knows, maybe the album will tank."

"I doubt it." Blaine could barely contain his excitement. "This is incredible! It's your song. Yours and Finn's." He looked up at Finn. "You really don't mind me singing it with the Warblers?"

"Hey," said Finn, smiling. He brushed Blaine's hand, just a gentle touch, but it was enough. "I can't imagine anybody better suited to sing that song than you."

* * *

_August 22, 2010_

_Dear Griffin,_

" _On the bus back I kept thinking of you - how exasperating you can be, how important your journey is to your survival, and how much I need you." I wasn't sure if I should write it in a quote because it's supposed to be from me, right? Oh, well. I'm writing this from my bedroom. You're just on the other side of the wall. In a minute, I'll take this down to the mailbox and leave it there for you, so you can pick it up tomorrow when you get back from Cheerios practice. I love sending you letters like this, baby. It makes me totally sappy to think about you opening them when I'm not around._

_I can't believe we're finally here, in the house. Everything that's happened this summer, especially the last couple weeks. I still wake up most days wondering if I made it all up, but it's still the same. Our own storybook romance, I guess, like you said. Beth is already 17 weeks old, that's pretty incredible too. In a week we're going to be juniors._

_The only thing I'm still wondering about is Carl. I thought I had it figured out, but something happened after Adam's concert. I don't know. I'm thinking about getting back together with him, trying it again. I know it's a stupid idea, but I also know I can trust him, no matter what happens. I just don't know how I feel about trusting myself. It's way too easy to let go of everything when I'm with him, and I can't do that, not if I want to be the kind of guy you and Puck and Blaine need._

_Anyway. I guess I'm telling you all this so you'll know, because I'm going to have a hard time saying it out loud. Just come tell me if you think I'm making a mistake, okay? You can always talk to me about anything — in a letter, if it's too hard to say it any other way. I'll listen._

_I love you, baby._

_Sabine_

* * *

The letter started out propped between the mailbox and the red flag, but long after Finn and Puck had gone to football practice and Kurt had departed for Cheerios, it slipped to the ground. In the space between the wooden lattice and the base of the mailbox, it got wedged under a board. Although Finn and Kurt went on to exchange many Griffin and Sabine letters, that one didn't surface for another two and a half years.


End file.
